


Oppfordre (Nerve)

by Evenbechbaesheim



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Evak - Freeform, Hacking, High School, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Nerve (Movie), Partying, Past Jonas/Eva, Popularity, Social Media, Some serious risk-taking, Tattoos, Underage Drinking, cyber crime, dares, good friend Jonas, mysterious fucker!Even, nerve!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10972536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenbechbaesheim/pseuds/Evenbechbaesheim
Summary: After everything that went on last year, Isak's really just trying to keep his head down and cling onto the few friendships he's managed to maintain. Eva still hates him, and he doesn't blame her for a second. In Isak's head, he really is the villain of her story. He probably deserves everything that's coming to him.And thenOppfordrestarts.It's just a silly game. A dumb app that makes you do dares for money, using online popularity as a driving force. Isak isn't interested. Not even remotely.Then he notices the new boy across the schoolyard.//Based on the 2016 Mystery/Crime ThrillerNerveEverything up to the end of season 2 is canon (Except Isak is out to his friends+peers)





	1. Watcher or Player?

Oppfordre (Nerve)

 

 

Chapter One: Watcher or Player?

 

 

 

Isak notices the boy for the first time at school.

For him, it’s just another day at Nissen. It’s lunch- and being summer, it’s actually somewhat mild enough outside to not be bundled up in eight different layers. The summers in Norway are never exactly _tropical_ in temperature, but still, 18°C is pretty impressive. Isak’s blue windbreaker sits lightly over a t-shirt and jeans, which he tucks his hands into as he listens to Magnus and Mahdi and Jonas all talk excitedly and at once about- wait, what were they talking about?

 _“Oppfordre?”_ he questions. “What does that even _mean_?”

“ _Nerve_.” Magnus replies. “It’s all about like, having the nerve to do something. It’s a game, look.” He slides his shiny new IPhone out the pocket of his jeans and they all crowd around as Magnus scrolls through what looks like a leader-board of usernames and small photo icons. He presses a name near the top at random, and the screen fills with a video of an unfamiliar face.

“What is this, like a YouTube video?” Isak asks as the guy on screen smiles, holding up a carton of orange juice and a carton of milk. He then proceeds to pour them both, at once into a glass. Isak grimaces.

“ _Nei_ , it’s live!” Mahdi explains. “Like… think _periscope_ mixed with the fucking deep web! You sign up as a _watcher_ and send people crazy dares for money and then, at midnight tonight there’s a grand finale where the two top players battle it out for all the money they’ve made.”

“ _Ja_ \- or,” Jonas taps the screen lightly, and a few red hearts appear as the guy begins to gulp and swallow around his disgusting concoction. “-you sign up as a _player_. Then you do the dares for money and try to win it all.”

Isak huffs, disinterested. “Sounds stupid.” He mumbles, looking away from the screen. His eyes scan instead across the playground, more than content to faze out of the conversation, leaving the others to natter on about _Oppfordre_ and all its wild possibilities. The whole thing sounds pretty vapid to him. He’s not surprised Magnus and Mahdi are into it, but _Jonas?_ He’d always been the sensible one of the group, above such petty internet _fads_. He’d only just got an Instagram account in _second_ year.

Isak isn’t staring at anything in particular, but his eyes do catch on a pair of black sneakers, making their way across the playground. There isn’t anything particularly impressive about the sneakers, but his eyes do fixate on the long, thin legs they’re attached to, wrapped in a pair of distressed black jeans. Following up, the boy wears an oversized grey hoodie with the _Adidas_ logo strewn across the front, and covering that is a large black leather jacket. The kid must be _sweating_ \- Isak thinks- but he doesn’t seem particularly bothered, a vibrant green bandana wrapped around his forehead, holding up a wall of tumbling, silken blonde hair.

He’s fucking _gorgeous_ , and Isak is _definitely_ staring. He may be drooling a little too.

“Oh shit- he _puked_!”

Torn from the moment, just as leather-jacket-bandana-guy had looked over and caught Isak’s eyes for the briefest of seconds across the playground, he’s dragged back by the commotion created by the other three boys, who are gagging and yelling at the guy on screen. _YOU FAIL_ , is written over the video in red letters. The video disappears, replaced again by the leader board.

“What the fuck were you staring at?” Jonas asks him with a knowing smirk, as Magnus and Mahdi scroll through the leader board for another player to view. Isak knows he’s blushing- he can feel the heat on his cheeks. Jonas was always too good at figuring him out. He was probably watching.

“Nothing.” Isak mumbles anyway, and Jonas gives him _that look_. Isak knows the look- he’s seen it a thousand times. It’s the _I’m-not-believing-any-of-your-shit-look_ , and he gets it shot his way every time he tries to lie to Jonas. Well, except for that one time, but-

“Yo! Look! _Eva’s_ in the top twenty!”

Isak’s eyes widen as a video of their friend- Jonas’ ex- his… well, he isn’t sure _what_ he and Eva are anymore- Eva, on the screen, giggling with Vilde behind her, grinning and crooning into the camera. There are a few other angles, other kids who are _watchers_ with their phones out recording as Eva hold a finger to her lips and smiles seductively behind large framed sunglasses, before running up to their physics teacher, swiping the pastry she was eating from her hand. The teacher goes berserk- and of course, the boys find this hilarious, watching seven different angles of Eva sprinting through the school as _DARE COMPLETED: 1000 Kr_ fills the screen and all the girls scream. Isak can’t quite bring himself to be so jovial. After all- things with himself and Eva hadn’t exactly been easy since what went on last year.

Of course, they’d talked about it. He’d even worked up the courage to tell _Jonas_ , who’d been unsurprisingly forgiving and humble about the whole thing. He and Eva were destined to break up anyway- he’d _said_. Isak had _nothing_ to do with it.

Isak knew this wasn’t true- and Jonas was just trying to make him feel better, because he wore guilt on his face like a mask and Jonas hated it when he was upset. Eva had been less forgiving- she’d listened, she’d understood, but understandably, she was still kind of mad. They hadn’t spoken much since.

Appearing from the double doors of the school entrance, laughing and squealing Eva came; the girls running behind her with their phones out apart from noticeably, Sana and Noora who watched them with disapproving, yet amused, frowns.

“I can’t believe she threatened to _suspend_ me!” Eva was laughing. Isak’s eyes widened. So now people were risking suspension, for cash and internet fame? He really was out of the fucking loop.

“You see that guy you were staring at?” Jonas brings it up again after the day is done, when the boys are walking to the café that most of their friends frequent after school in the summer for sodas and burgers. Magnus and Mahdi are hanging behind, looking out for new _Oppfordre_ streams to watch. Through the window as they approach, Isak spots the girls, led by Eva, and almost turns around, intent on running back home.

“What about him?” he asks instead with a sigh as the door is pushed open. Jonas smiles.

“He’s just transferred here from _Elvebakken._ Weird time to transfer, in the last part of the school term but- yeah. He’s a third year- sort of. I heard someone say he’s repeating a few credits so he can go to university, because he missed out on some school at the end of last year.”

Isak just frowns as Jonas relays the information off like a fucking Facebook profile, and grimaces when Magnus chooses the booth right next to the girls, so he can lean over and flirt with Vilde as they all talk excitably about _Oppfordre._

“Why are you telling me?” he asks, feeling Eva’s eyes zone in on him instantly. He pretends not to notice the bite in her glare.

“You know,” Jonas elbows him playfully. Isak has to give him credit. Since the whole coming-out thing, Jonas has been incredibly supportive of him, but his obsessive attempts at wing-manning make Isak even more nervous to try and actually hook-up with a guy. “In case you wanted to talk to him.”

“I doubt he wants to talk to me.” Isak turns away, rolling his eyes. He’s happy to leave the conversation at that. He’s happy to sip the soda he ordered and stay quiet as everyone else talks about _Oppfordre_ and how fucking _cool_ it is and how much money Eva has made so far.

The others don’t seem so content to let him.

“So what about you _Isak_?” Chris asks. “Are you a _watcher_ , or a _player_?”

“Neither.” Isak shrugs. “I don’t really see the appeal.”

“ _Ja_ ,” Eva mutters under her breath, cutting her eye at him. “Isak prefers to sit in the middle. More of a _meddler_ , I guess.”

A hot blush fills Isak’s cheeks, as he feels six pairs of eyes swivel around to him. Jonas isn’t looking- he’s too busy glaring at Eva. Eva is too busy staring at her phone.

“Hey- cut it out Eva.” Jonas says.

“ _What?_ I’m just saying the truth.” Eva bites back, and an uncomfortable tension sits between the two booths. Isak shifts nervously and silently in his seat, wishing to be anywhere else in the whole entire world. Noora sends him a sympathetic smile, but says nothing. He supposes that she’s just a watcher too. Perhaps this is the dare Eva’s set for herself, with her new found online fame and confidence and wealth.

“I don’t think this _is_ the kind of game for you Isak. You prefer to do your misdeeds in private, right? Hoping nobody will ever find out?”

“Eva-” Jonas’ tone is warning, but Eva’s on a roll. Not many people can stop Eva on a roll, and quite frankly, Isak deserves it. He deserves _worse_ \- but he knows that still, despite everything, Eva’s too good a friend to give it to him.

“Maybe I’m wrong.” She shrugs, sipping her soda and flicking through her phone. “Maybe you should sign up and watch _me_ , as you’ve been so invested in my life _previously_ -”

“I should go-” Isak stands abruptly, and Jonas tugs him back down with the sleeve of his jacket.

“-No, Isak stay. Eva, leave it!”

“Nei, it’s fine.” Isak shakes his head, curls bouncing before he picks his (Jonas’) snapback up off the table and tucks them away before slipping out of the booth. “I’ve got… _homework_ to do. I’ll see you guys around.”

“Isak, wait-”

“-Jonas, I’m fine!” he calls, without looking back. He can’t let Jonas see the tears clinging to the corner of his eyes. The asshole’s such a good friend, he’d drop everything and chase after him. Maybe that’s why Isak was so in love with him for so long, and maybe that’s why Isak isn’t the slightest bit in love with him anymore. When it all comes down to it, Jonas is too good for him. Jonas has _always_ been too good for him.

Isak thinks about Jonas as he rides the tram home. He thinks about Jonas as he climbs the stairs up to _Kollektivet_ and he thinks about Jonas as Eskild waves him in, showing him the latest dare he’s watching on _Oppfordre_ in the living room _._ Then, sitting down in front of his computer with the game website up and shining, the words _WATCHER_ and _PLAYER_ blinking at him in neon pink lettering, he thinks about Eva.

She’s probably right. Isak should just click on _watcher_ and watch Eva win the game. She’s already in the top twenty, and it’s only four in the afternoon! Eva is pretty and she’s funny and she’s always been game for pretty much anything. She’d make an awesome winner- Isak knows it, and there isn’t much she’s afraid of. Well- she’d always been spooked by heights a little, but there’s no way the game can actually know that. As far as Isak is aware, its computer-generated and controlled by a program, not a person. Jonas would know more- with all that _deep web_ bullshit he got roped into back when he started hanging out with Elias- but Jonas isn’t here right now. Isak has to keep reminding himself of that.

Jonas wouldn’t want him to do this at all- he’d want him to close the laptop and walk away completely. Maybe they could hang out at Magnus’ later with a few beers, watching the latest top dares on his cell phone, plugged into the TV in his basement. He didn’t _have_ to prove himself in any way to anyone.

Isak thinks of the boy he saw in the playground. He doesn’t even know his name- but everything else about him shines like a beacon in Isak’s mind. He thinks of the boy, and his finger drags over the mouse.

Does everyone really think him to be so _fucking spineless_?

Heart hammering, Isak clicks the button and, much to his surprise, his phone buzzes not five seconds later with a shining new app, opening itself on screen.

 

 

_VELKOMMEN TIL OPPFORDRE. YOU HAVE CHOSEN: PLAYER._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Jonas, I need your help!”

“Where are you?” Isak grits his teeth as he practically hears the curve of Jonas’ tyres screeching as he throws his new car in a U-turn, probably headed back in the direction of Isak’s apartment. He hates using his best friend like this- but the _Oppfordre_ app told him that he only had ten minutes to complete his first dare, and there was no way he was getting to the _ALL-AMERIKANSK_ , an American-inspired diner, on foot, in time. Thankfully, Jonas isn’t far- and Isak holds back on telling him the reason for the sudden need for milkshakes until he’s in the passenger seat and Jonas is racing down side roads, taking every short cut he knows.

He slams on the brakes outside the diner just as Isak confesses.

“You chose to be a _PLAYER_? Isak, have you lost your fucking mind?”

“I just had to do this- okay?” Isak throws his hands up, looking down at his phone. _GET TO ALL AMERIKANSK FOR YOUR FIRST DARE_ , it screams at him, a timer displayed in blue underneath. He only has two more minutes to make it inside. “I-I had to prove that I’m not just some spineless fucking snake who meddles in other people’s lives and-”

“So this _is_ about Eva- look, Isak, I’ll talk to her!” Jonas throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. “You don’t have to do this!”

“I do.” Isak opens the passenger door, and slips his seatbelt off. He avoids Jonas’ eyes. “It’s not about Eva. It’s about me- I could use the cash anyway.” It might be a lie, slipping from his tongue as he shrugs his shoulders, but Isak will happily let himself believe it, for now.

“I’d lend you it!” Jonas calls after him as he climbs out the car, and Isak does actually stop in his tracks and turn, looking his best friend in the face. Jonas is so _fucking good_ to him- it’s infuriating sometimes.

“I know you would.” He says quietly, before running off into the diner.

Jonas follows him, of course, because it’s _Jonas_. He’d chase Isak into the middle of a battle if either were so inclined- so Isak isn’t even nearly surprised when he hears short puffs of breath behind him and Jonas’ voice, rattling off facts about how the game harvests you for data, lists your likes and dislikes pulled directly from facebook and instagram into a profile so all the watchers can torment you with personality-tailored dares. He talks about how all the watchers are encouraged to film players they see on the street- how the game got big with the Elvebakken crowd last year- how some kid apparently _died_ and-

“That’s bullshit.” Isak’s nose scrunches in disbelief, sat opposite Jonas in a booth with someone’s leftover fries between them on the table as Isak waits for his first dare to load up on his phone. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true! I read about it on the dark web. The game is dangerous- but nobody snitched so the death just went down as an accident!”

“Eva seems to be doing just fine.”

Jonas rolled his eyes. “Eva and the girls will get bored, Isak, just like everyone else. She’ll get bored and she’ll bail. I’m just saying be careful- you know this thing is completely untraceable? There’s not even a way to shut it down, say _if_ the police got involved. It’s all done per member- every time someone signs up a new server opens. It would be impossible to close them all!”

“Police?” Isak scoffs. “Jonas, it isn’t that serious. Nobody is going to call the police because…” he scrolls through the leader-board quickly on his phone, grimacing when he comes to the current top-viewed broadcast. “…some girl is eating _dog-food_. Besides, it said in the rules- snitches get _stiches_.” He sings teasingly, remembering the mantra that blared from his laptop after he’d signed up- a rule about not letting the police get involved in order to keep the game alive- but Jonas’ eyes are dark, deadly serious.

“You don’t have to do this.” He says again. Isak is quiet.

They are both thankfully interrupted by his phone vibrating.

“Well?” Jonas raises his eyebrows expectantly as Isak reads the dare not once, not twice, but three times. “What does it say?”

Isak has to swallow thickly to wrap his head around the words written on the screen. _Why couldn’t it have been dog food?_ He pleads quietly in his mind, head knocking against the back of the booth as he huffs.

“Kiss a stranger for five seconds.” He mumbles.

“Isak!” Jonas whines, throwing his hands up in the air. “You don’t have to do-”

“1000 Kroner.” Isak cuts him off, thumb jabbing _ACCEPT_ before he has a chance to chicken out like he _really wants_ to. He can’t lie and say he wasn’t close to calling it quits- with Jonas and those giant, beautiful puppy-dog brown eyes. Close- but not quite.

“It’s one dare.” He says before standing out of the booth, sliding his phone over to Jonas as he looks around for any men worth kissing. There’s a timer flashing on the dare. He’s got exactly four minutes to pick his prey or he fails. “After this, I’ll bail- okay?”

“ _Isak_ -”

“- _Jonas_ ,” Isak mimics his warning tone. Jonas did always act more like a parent than a friend- but this is really taking it to new levels. _It’s one dare_ , he thinks mostly to convince himself. _Kiss a stranger_. _No problem._

And then he spots him.

His face is covered by a magazine- Isak recognises the print immediately and a blown up photo of _N.W.A,_ his favourite Old Skool Hip-Hop group glaring at him- but it’s definitely _him_ , the Elvebakken boy. Same leather jacket, same Adidas hoodie. Isak can’t believe his shitty, shitty luck- but the diner is occupied solely by families and couples, so it’s either _this_ or the greasy looking chef devouring a hamburger on his lunch break.

Isak swallows nervously and approaches the table.

“Um… _hi._ ” He says, awkwardly. The magazine is lowered, and he comes face to face with Elvebakken boy for the first time. _Fuck-_ Isak thinks. _He’s just as handsome close up_. “I… uh… you like N.W.A?”

It’s a shitty conversation starter. The guy probably picked up the magazine because it had been left behind- nobody listens to nineties hip-hop in Norway except for himself and Jonas- but Elvebakken boy smiles (the grin makes his eyes sparkle and Isak’s stomach does eight consecutive somersaults) and even more surprisingly, nods.

“Yeah!” he says. “I love hip-hop. Do you?”

“N.W.A is like, my favourite rap group- ever.” Isak gushes- he can’t help himself. He always gets like this when he talks about rap music. It isn’t often that anyone shows much interest- and he and Jonas can only have the same _Ice Cube vs Dr Dre_ debate so many times. “ _Ja_ , I really, really like rap.”

“Do you listen to Nas?” The boy asks. Isak tries to hide the confusion on his face. He isn’t sure if Nas is a person or a group- but he’s certainly never heard of them. He plays it cool. Dare or no dare- this guy is fucking hot, and he doesn’t want to look like some nerd who doesn’t know about _hip-hop_ seconds after confessing his love for N.W.A _._

“ _Ja_.” He nods shyly. The boys smile grows impossibly wider, and more attractive.

“ _Illmatic_ is my favourite album of all time. Do you like _Illmatic_?”

“I do, I-” he’s interrupted by Jonas, hissing his name from behind. He’s holding Isak’s phone sideways, recording. _Shit_ , Isak thinks. _The dare_. Barely a few seconds staring into Elvebakken boy’s eyes and he’d already forgotten about the whole thing.

“Ten seconds!” Jonas mouths. Isak’s face turns red. Even’s looking between him and Jonas with an amused, curious smirk and Isak realises that it really is now or never. He’s sort of upset he doesn’t have the chance to explain himself- but he’s got a point to prove about spines- or the lack thereof, so he just leans forwards, right as Elvebakken boy opens his mouth to say something an presses their lips together, all but falling into the booth beside him.

The boy doesn’t hesitate, kissing back with fervour, one hand winding into Isak’s hair, knocking his snapback off his head so that his curls are free. Isak counts five seconds in his head, hears the beeping of the completed dare from his phone across the room, but neither he nor Elvebakken boy pull away. Their kiss continues for another few seconds, at least an extra five, before it comes to a natural end and they’re both left flushed and smiling. Elvebakken boy is _beaming_ , lips red and wet and Isak blushes, knowing full well how much he enjoys knowing that it was him who did that.

“You don’t know Nas, do you?” he asks, still grinning. Isak’s blush gets darker.

“I-uh, no, I do… uh, Nas is-”

“It’s fine.” Elvebakken laughs. “I’m Even by the way. What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you _angel-face_ in my head.”

“Angel-face?” Isak frowns, and _Even_ (a perfect name for a perfect boy) coos at him, before tapping his nose gently with one long finger. Only then does Isak realise how close they are still sitting, and scoots backwards reluctantly.

“ _Ja_ ,” Even says. “Look at you. You’re like a little angel.” He pulls gently at a blonde curl. “I saw you in school today, and it was all I could think.”

Isak is in shock. Not only did Elvebakken boy- or _Even_ , as he now is- notice him, but he _liked_ what he saw? Since coming out- Isak hadn’t really had much action. The last thing he imagined was his first fully un-closeted kiss to be with someone so devastatingly handsome and suave and mysterious.

“Isak!” It’s Jonas, looking awkward and impatient and slightly annoyed across the diner, Isak’s phone still in his hand. He’s still sitting in the same booth, same stale fries besides him. Isak feels bad for leaving him like that, and scoots further away from Even, who pouts, but lets him go.

“Well… I’ll see you around?” Isak offers a hand awkwardly, to shake. Even does him one better, and kisses the top of his knuckle, sending sparks shooting through every single nerve in Isak’s body. He notices a few people, his age, gathered around in the corner, phones pointed in their direction. _Watchers_. It’s eerie how easily he spots them now, after just one dare.

“Definitely.” Even says, before shooting him a wink. Isak scuttles back off to the booth with his mouth hung open in shock, Jonas watching him across the booth with a mixture of disbelief and contempt on his face.

“Eskild texted you.” Is all he says, jaw clenched, before sliding the phone over. The _Oppfordre_ app is still open, and Isak smiles when he sees the _1000Kr,_ bouncing around on the screen. At least he won’t have to ask his dad for more money to make up the rent this month. “That fucking app put the cash straight into your account. You should bail, Isak. That means they’ve got your account information-”

Isak zones Jonas out after that. He can’t help it- adrenaline fills his body, making his fingertips numb and his chest tingle. Kissing Even was exhilarating- like an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his mouth compared to the grey and slimy kisses exchanged with girls at house parties all of first year. Kissing Even made him _feel_ something. Isak hadn’t felt much of anything since-

He was distracted by Eskilds text.

 

 

_Eskild (Kollektivet)_

 

_(17:23) Just saw you on oppfordre with that guy! I can’t believe my baby is growing up! Stay safe out there, Issy x_

 

 

He smiles, before typing out a quick reply. Jonas is still talking, but Isak doesn’t need a lecture on online safety. Not tonight. His watchers level has gone up from twenty to a hundred within the space of minutes. Suddenly, he gets why Eva was so into this idea in the first place. It’s sudden and it’s exciting and it’s fucking _thrilling._

“Can you believe I did that?” he asks aloud, more to himself than to Jonas, who still shakes his head in response. Then Isak turns to look back at Even, but to his surprise, the boy is nowhere to be seen. Shitty pop music hums from the tinny speakers above them. A few diners look over at him with confusion in their eyes. Isak ignores them, instead watching the empty booth that Even had occupied seconds ago.

“Where did he go?” he asks, whipping round to look back at Jonas, who just huffs, shrugs and rolls his eyes. Isak pouts. “What? Are you _jealous_? It was just a dare Jonas!”

“I’m not jealous.” Jonas says through gritted teeth. He’s a better liar than Isak, sure, but he isn’t that good. They’ve known each other their whole lives, and Isak can read what the little involuntary brow quirk is writing out for him. “It’s just this song- you _know_ I hate this song.”

Isak frowns, looking up to the ceiling speaker. He recognises the song, once he actually starts to listen. It’s euro-trash pop, _5 fine frøkner._ Eva had been obsessed with it last year- playing it for the entire summer over and over, much to his and Jonas’ distaste. Isak would know the auto-tuned pitchy voice anywhere, but this time it sounds different. It occurs to him all too late, as a gaggle of girls whip their phones out and start recording, that someone else is singing along.

“ _Du får meg til å kjøre meg opp / Det e ingenting som kan kjøre meg ned-_ ” it’s Even, it’s fucking _Even_ , Isak spots his blonde hair, tucked away under _his_ (Jonas’) snapback, standing on top of a table on the other side of the diner, singing at the top of his lungs with a fat smile on his face. Once he notices Isak looking, he points in his direction. “ _Du får alt til å sprenge i kok / D e ingen andre eg heller gjør det her med!”_ he bellows, sliding off the table and landing a pretty risky jump onto a chair, which carries him to the ground surprisingly graciously as the chorus kicks in. Isak’s impressed he knows all the lyrics as he dances his way over, surprisingly _not_ making a complete fool of himself.

“He’s singing to me?!” he whispers to Jonas, who nods, as if to say _yeah, duh._

Isak can do nothing but watch as Even makes his way toward their table, kicking off with one last round of the cheesy chorus before the song begins to fade, people around them clapping. He kneels to the floor, pulling the snapback from his head, and hands it in Isak’s direction.

“You left this behind.” He smirks, and the look is only punctuated by the familiar beeping of the _oppfordre_ app from his back pocket. He pulls his phone out, before standing and waving to the watchers, who leave the diner laughing, and aims it at Isak, who smiles and waves.

“You’re playing too?” Jonas asks. Even slips his phone back into his pocket, dare completed. He nods.

“ _Ja_. It’s good fun. I guess after that kiss- the watchers couldn’t resist having me mess with you back.” He slides into the booth without need to be invited, reaching over to pick at one of the fries left on the table, tossing it into his mouth. Isak is too lost in the pale ocean of his eyes to point out that the fries aren’t theirs. Jonas looks to be biting back a glare.

“I’m so sorry about that whole… _kiss_ thing. So _embarrassing_ …” Isak runs his hands through his hair gently, before slotting the snapback over the whole mess. Thankfully, Even just continues to smile.

“Don’t sweat it. It was some kiss.” He says, before reaching across the table to pull the hat off of Isak’s head. “You have lovely hair.” He says, laying the hat back onto the table. “Shame to cover it.”

Isak just grins. It scarcely matters that he wears a snapback 80% of the time and they’re all stolen from Jonas. Even thinks he looks cute without it- so he can tolerate a few curls falling inform of his eyes every now and then and for the rest of his fucking life, if Even wants to stick around and watch him.

“You’re a good player too,” Even nods, after a few beats of silence from the whole table. “Are you in it to win it?” he asks. Isak shrugs just as Jonas shakes his head firmly.

“It was just one dare, right Is?” he says, and Isak nods in agreement. Fairs fair, he supposes, and Jonas has come up with a few valid points. The best thing to do would be to take his 1000kr, bail and then become a watcher for the rest of the game. He’s sure Even would make some great screen time.

“Ah, that’s no fun!” Even exclaims, and almost as if on cue, both their phones light up, side by side.

 

_GO INTO TOWN. ACCEPT OR DENY? 500kr._

 

“Looks like the watchers do think we look good together, huh?” it’s flirtatious, and Isak knows he’s falling for the whole act hook line and fucking _sinker,_ but Even is so needlessly charming, he’d have to be inhuman not to. “I’ve got a bike outside.” Even’s got a _bike_. It’s fate- real fucking destiny- screaming at him.

 _GO INTO TOWN_. _Oppfordre_ tells him. _ACCEPT OR DENY? 500kr._

Isak looks at Jonas, who shakes his head ever so slightly. He sighs, and looks down at the table.

“I-I shouldn’t.” He says quietly. “This was fun but- I can’t really play. I’ve got… things to do.”

“You should come Isak- it’s only fifteen minutes away, for 500kr. What could go wrong?” Even’s tone is incredibly persuasive, and Isak struggles to tear his eyes way when Even reaches behind his head, pulling his bandana tighter. His hair springs up around it, and the blonde strands look so silky, Isak wants to reach out and touch them. Sadly, Even doesn’t give him opportunity too, standing up from the table.

“I’ll be outside if you change your mind.” He shrugs, picking up his phone. “I’ll wait ten minutes.”

Isak doesn’t have a chance to reply that _no_ , _he isn’t going_ before Even’s spun on his heel and sauntered out of the restaurant. Once he’s gone, Jonas let’s out a long, aggravated sigh.

“Can you believe that guy?” he huffs, followed by a curt laugh. “He thought those fries were ours. _Gross_.”

Isak stares at the door longingly. Again, he thinks about Eva’s words in the café earlier. If he gave up now- after one dare- what would he really have proved? That he’s definitely _gay?_ Everyone knew that already after the whole Chris disaster at the end of last year. Besides, Even seems like an interesting guy- and the dare wasn’t much at all. _GO INTO TOWN-_ his phone said. What could _really_ be so dangerous about going into town at five o’clock in the evening?

“I’m going.” He says suddenly, mouth moving before his brain has a chance to catch up and stop him. His body moves on its own- standing up, eyes fixed on the door where Even had just floated out of. Jonas chokes.

“Are you _insane_? Issy- you don’t even _know_ that guy!”

“I’m going, Jonas.” Isak picks up his jacket, but leaves the snapback laying on the table. “Watch me, if you’d like-” he doesn’t give Jonas a chance to really talk him out of it, like he knows he so badly wants to. Instead, he all but runs out the door to the diner, hoping that Even really did mean it when he said he’d wait. Jonas calls after him, but it’s faint, distant. _Disappointed_.

“I hoped you’d come around.” Even is smiling, holding a pushbike by the handlebars. It’s got an extended seat at the back. Perfect for two. “Join me on a ride to the city?” he makes an overly grandiose hand gesture towards the bike as if it were a golden carriage. Isak grins as if it is.

“I’d love to.”

 

 


	2. I Dare You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even takes Isak into town, chasing a few dares on Oppfordre. Jonas has some worrying information.

 

Chapter Two: I Dare You

 

 

 

 

The address the app takes them to is immediately recognised by Isak as the directions appear on both their phones, but not Even, who is still relatively new to the area.

“It’s a fancy department store.” Isak points it out as they round the street corner, a few people holding out their phones as they pass by. _Watchers_ , Isak thinks. _How many of them are there?_ And, more importantly: _why are they all so interested in Even?_

A quick glance at his phone tells him that actually, Even has almost eight thousand viewers. He’s in the top five already. Isak only has eight hundred- but the number has climbed significantly since they’d joined forces.

Even parks his bike up opposite _Steen & Strøm_, and they both jump off, equally red-faced from the cooler winds hitting them as the bike flew down the city streets. It’s nearing close to sunset, and a chill that wasn’t previously present has set in the air. Isak hardly notices. Being pressed up against Even for fifteen minutes has kept him plenty warm enough.

“I guess this is where we part ways.” Even looks down at his phone, a new dare flashing. “I can take you home if you’d like- after.” He gestures to his phone. Isak smiles, but shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says. “Thanks for the lift, but I can jump on the tram home. Good luck!” he waves, and Even looks like he really doesn’t want to leave- but _oppfordre_ is calling him like a siren, so he waves goodbye, before backing up into the road and reluctantly turning around, jogging into the store. Isak just watches him go, and for a second, his chest aches. He’d really have liked to spend a little more time with Even- but the game was clearly his priority.

Pulling his phone out, Isak decides to check the app one more time before heading home. He doubts there are any more paying dares for him- as his viewer count is still low and will likely sink further now that Even’s out of the picture. Even is the only reason people have bothered watching him in the first place. He’s a pretty big deal, apparently.

Surprisingly enough, his phone pings. A photo fills the screen of a mannequin, dressed in a neat grey button down shirt and expensive looking black jeans. Covering that, is a long, light-brown wool coat. It isn’t unlike something Isak would wear himself if he had somewhere fancy to go or the money to afford it. An arrow above the picture points straight ahead, and Isak looks, the department store sign glowing above him as the evening creeps in.

 

 

 _TRY THIS ON?_ _700kr. ACCEPT OR DENY?_

Isak smiles, catching sight of a group of watchers, gathering outside the store with their phones out, already aimed in his direction. He touches the accept button on his phone, looks both ways down the street briefly, and then runs inside.

 

 

* * *

 

 

One rule of _Oppfordre_ is that every single dare can only be completed when filmed on the recipient’s phone. Of course, having watchers around them virtually at all times ensures that not many dares go un-seen, but it’s the recording on the _PLAYER_ s phone that verifies the dares completion. Isak doesn’t really think about that as he lays the phone down on the small seat in the fancy-changing room, and immediately strips off the clothes he was already wearing. He’s only got forty seconds left to change into this ridiculously expensive outfit. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he looked at the price tag for the coat. It was _30,000kr._

 _NICE ASS_ Isak catches the comment from ANON2408r out of the corner of his eye as he wriggles into the tight jeans, and a blush spreads from his face down to his exposed chest.

 _I’D DO HIM_ another writes. He wants to turn the phone around so their prying eyes can’t see him- but the time’s almost completely up, and he hasn’t buttoned up the shirt yet. Isak tears his eyes away from the screen and focuses on getting dressed.

 _FIVE SECONDS REMAINING_.

He yanks the expensive coat off of its polished, wooden hanger hard enough to probably tear it- but in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t think about how fucking _over_ his life would be if he’d actually ruined it. He yanks it over his narrow shoulders just in time, and even though his hair is all over the place and he’s out of breath, it’s enough for _Oppfordre_.

 

 _DARE COMPLETE_.

 

Isak practically throws himself against the wall of the changing room after that, sighing in relief. It’s actually still incredibly fun- and the mad panic to not only find the clothes in the store but to also convince the snooty attendant that he was rich enough to afford them made adrenaline bleed from his pores and speed up his heart in a way that made him feel more _alive_ than he had in months.

Now he isn’t against the clock, Isak takes a step out of the changing room and looks at himself in the mirror. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look awful. The wool coat is probably his favourite part of the whole outfit, and fits him beautifully.

“Huh.” He hums to himself, posing slightly and tugging at the lapels.

“You look nice-” a familiar voice startles him from behind, and Isak whirls around to face Even, dressed head to toe in a _very_ expensive, _very_ tailored looking black tuxedo. He’s got a fucking bowtie and everything- a dark green, complimenting his bandana, which sits wrapped up in his fist.

Isak is lost for words. Even looks fucking _incredible_ \- the slim-fitting tux hugs every inch of his slender, imposing figure in a way that makes it look like he was born to wear it. The illusion of class isn’t even ruined by his same scuffed black sneakers over his feet. In fact, Isak thinks they make him look even _cooler-_ like a young rich-kid strolling his way down a red carpet, flipping off the paparazzi with a wild, manic grin.

He hadn’t been aware that he was standing there, silently gawping at Even until the beeping of his phone distracts them both.

“Guess they really do like seeing us together.” Even holds up his phone, and it takes Isak a second to remember the stupid game in the first place. For some reason, every time he looks at Even he forgets that outside the context of a shit ton of money- he probably wouldn’t look twice at a boy like him.

 _COMPLETE ISAK’S LOOK_ , it says, followed by a photo of a pair of shoes that Isak remembers passing briefly on his mad dash to the changing room.

He can’t help himself- even if he knows that it will hurt later when Even leaves him. Isak smiles. “How could I refuse?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Even plays the part well- Isak will give him credit, it really _does_ look like he’s interested when he kneels down onto the floor and slips the black desert boot onto Isak’s foot, before tying the laces for him. A few people around them actually coo- mumbling under their breaths about what a _sweet couple_ they are. Isak blushes, and tries to ignore them. Hopefully, Even isn’t listening.

Afterwards, Even pulls him up by the hand and they giggle all the way back to the changing rooms. Isak doesn’t even want to go back- silently pleading in his head for the app to give them both another dare to play out together- but both their phones are completely silent. The fun is over, and Isak can see that Even is itching- bouncing on the soles of his feet- to fucking get out the store and move on to the next dare which will surely come his way soon.

“This was nice. I think we look great.” He says, heading back in the direction of his changing room. “That coat really does look nice on you, Isak.”

It’s enough to make Isak’s insides melt- the way Even says his name and shoots him that gorgeous fucking smile and a wink, before disappearing behind the curtain to get changed back into his actual clothes. He’d listen to Even say his name every single fucking day if he could. He’d give up music- just to listen to that smirking drawl of _Isaaaaaaak_ on repeat in his headphones.

He all but floats back over to his changing room, and it actually takes him a dreamy minute before he notices that his clothes are not sitting on the stool in the neat pile he left them. Frowning, Isak drops to the floor and checks underneath. He spins around three or four times in the tiny space. There isn’t a single spot of floor that isn’t visible. There’s nowhere for them to just be _hiding_.

He runs into the next changing room. They aren’t in there either. He practically grabs the attendant who walks through, asking in a panicked mumble if she’d moved his clothes (she turns her nose up, rolls her eyes, says _of course not_ ) and at that point, Isak’s heart his hammering for all the _wrong_ reasons.

It’s a few seconds of blinding, silent panic when Even stumbles out of his changing room cubicle, looking equally concerned and confused. He spots Isak and points behind him to the curtain.

“My- uh, my clothes are gone-”

“-mine too.” Isak nods, rushing over. “What are we supposed to do? Who took them?”

Even’s eyes narrow as he peers around the room as if he’s got a sixth sense for trouble. “It must’ve been a dare. For someone to come in and steal our clothes whilst we were out playing with the shoes.”

“What fucking _asshole_ would do that?” Isak exclaims, running a hand through his hair and tugging anxiously at the curls. The coat suddenly feels so fucking heavy around his shoulders, as if every single kroner it’s worth is sewn into the sleeves. “Shit- Even, what are we going to do?”

Even looks around the room, chest expanding as he controls his panicked breathing. He’s squinting, and it’s like Isak can see physical cogs in his mind, clunking and turning.

“There must be another player here.” He taps his phone against his chest thoughtfully, before opening up _Oppfordre._ “Yep! Look!” he exclaims, opening the third highest player on the leaderboard. He isn’t anyone Isak’s seen before- he doesn’t even recognise his username, _MIKAEL_000_. He’s holding their clothes in his hand and laughing, phone balanced awkwardly on the windscreen of a car. _DARE COMPLETE_ flashes on the screen, and Even swears under his breath, mouth set into a thin, seething frown.

“What the fuck?” Isak cries. “Why would he do that? Do you know him?”

Even shakes his head. “Nei. He must’ve been in the area and the watchers…” he trails off, head rocking side to side slightly as he grimaces, unbale to look Isak quite in the eye. “…they can be cruel, okay?”

“Nei. _Not_ fucking o-kay!” Isak replies. “What the fuck are we going to do, Even?”

At that exact second, both their phones vibrate. Isak is visibly annoyed as he yanks it out of his back pocket, intending just to ignore whatever stupid shenanigans the general public are sending his way next, so they can focus on actually getting their stuff back.

And then he reads the dare.

 

 

_LEAVE THE STORE – 40000 kr – ACCEPT OR DENY?_

 

“Right!” Even grabs his hand and starts trying to pull him through the exit- “We’ll head down to the main entrance and then, make a distraction for the guard so we can run out, and-”

“ _Nei!_ ” Isak yanks his arm back, shocked that Even is even _considering_ what is being asked of them. “I’m not _shoplifting_ Even! This coat cost _30000kr!”_

“What else do you suggest?” Even yells back, clearly anxious. Isak takes a step away from him, frowning. _It’s_ _just a game_ he wants to say- but in this moment, for Even, it doesn’t really seem like _just_ _a_ _game_ at all, which is distantly unsettling.

“Okay, okay, okay, look- let’s think about this.” Isak reaches forwards and takes his hand again, and the smallest gesture does actually seem to relax Even for a few seconds. The two lock eyes, and as an idea pops into his head, Isak can feel the tips of his ears turn red. “I might have an idea.” He says quietly.

“What’s the idea?”

“It’s uh- it’s dumb-”

Even squeezes his hand tightly, eyes wide, panic setting in again. “Isak, tell me. I’m sure I won’t think it’s dumb. We don’t really have many other options and time is short, so-”

“Well, it’s just…” Isak huffs, and the pink spreads from his ears to his cheeks. He avoids Even’s sparkling eyes. “The dare… it doesn’t say we have to leave _with_ the clothes.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Even is surprisingly comfortably being naked, aside from boxers and his sneakers (the only things not stolen, thankfully, were their shoes) as he tugs on Isak’s hand as they bob and weave through the shop floor, trying desperately not to get noticed by any of the staff. Isak on the other hand is a little more shy, hiding behind large mannequins and holding an arm across his chest awkwardly at all times. The worst (and simultaneously _best_ ) part is probably when they do make it to the elevator, and they have ten slow, _silent_ seconds just standing beside each other, near-naked, arms touching. Isak notices then just how _tall_ Even is. He’s quite the bean pole himself, but Even takes it to a new level, heads above him with his back straight and his shoulders back comfortably. He’s not embarrassed by his body in any way shape or form, and Isak can’t really blame him. He’s incredibly lean.

The elevator stops at the ground and Isak freezes as the doors slide open and two very confused faces stare at them. There’s a silent, almost western-style stand off for a few, stunned seconds before Even lets out a bellowing laugh and grabs Isak’s hand again, pulling them out and sprinting towards the exit. There’s no point in hiding now- not when they’ve already been seen- so they both just run as fast as they can until they part at the double doors, both barely flying past the burly security guard who’s surely having the strangest day at work of his life. There’s watchers dotted about the store- holding up their phones and laughing as the staff and security watch on, baffled. Isak forgets he’s even naked when they make it outside, and laughs as they approach the bike, Even’s chest heaving before he grabs Isak and pulls him into an excited hug.

“Hey, look!” Isak says over his shoulder, trying to ignore the watchers who are cooing at them from outside the store and the feeling of Even’s crotch, pressed dangerously close to his. A thankful distraction is the _Steen & Strøm _shopping tote, swinging from the handlebars of Even’s bike with a post-it note stuck to it, crude smiley face scribbled on the front in red marker. Other than that, there’s no message, and Isak feels the hope return to his body in waves as Even approaches it and routes around inside.

“Our clothes?” he asks. Even shakes his head, and starts pulling out the garments one by one. Isak’s eyes widen when he catches the collar of the grey shirt, crumpling in Even’s grip.

“Wait, are these _stolen_?” he asks, worried again as Even hands him the shirt with an excited laugh, before slipping into the trousers of his stupidly over-priced black suit. “Nei!” he shakes his head, routing inside again before pulling out a sheet of paper. “Look- a receipt!”

Isak grabs it as Even gets dressed right there, on the sidewalk, eyes widening when he looks at the grand total. Even’s fucking suit had been even more expensive than his ensemble- and that was saying something when you added all the clothes up together plus the price of the coat.

“Who bought these?” he asks, shocked, before following Even’s example and sliding the expensive jeans over his legs, eager to cover his bare flesh not only from the nipping cold of the summer evening, but the watchers too. Even just shrugs.

“Probably one of them-” he nods over to the watchers, who wave at them and laugh, phone torches beaming. Even’s eyes sparkle as he grins, and waves back. “-with daddy’s credit card, no doubt.”

“I can’t believe it!” Isak slips the warm coat over his body, and again, it fits him like a fucking glove. Even’s eyes soften when he looks over, and he smooths out the lapel gently.

“It really does suit you.” He says, and suddenly Isak is more than aware of the radiating intimacy between them. It makes him nervous, to think that groups of people were watching them on the streets as well as thousands online, but it’s also kind of thrilling to think about. He can imagine Eva, as well as the others, home watching in shock at his sudden daring streak. He can imagine Even, smiling at him like that with his hands curled around the lapels of his jacket for a lifetime.

“Where to next?” Even ponders aloud, breaking the silence between them and instead hopping onto his bike, pausing briefly to tie the bandana back around his head. “I don’t think we’ll get another dare so soon after that. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Isak almost squeaked. First the super-close, gentle touches and now Even wanted to take him on a _date_? He was making it incredibly hard to remember that the only reason they were together was for a stupid online game.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, hopping onto the back of the bike and wrapping his arms around Evens waist. Neither of them said another word as they rode off, pedalling into the night in a nonspecific direction, only the faint voices of the watchers behind them to distract Isak from Even’s warmth.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Can’t beat a cheese toastie.” Even is grinning when the two plates are set down in front of them, and Isak can’t help but share his excitement. He’d been too busy earlier, fleeing from his awkward encounter with Eva to even order anything in the café near school. And he has to agree with Even- cheese toasties are his favourite.

“What are you doing?” Even startles him by shouting, when the warm, inviting sandwich is only inches from his lips. Isak frowns.

“I’m… eating my cheese toastie?”

“Nei, nei, nei! You’re forgetting the most important part!” Even waves his hand, encouraging Isak to lay the sandwich back down on his plate, which he does, but glares at Even the entire time. He’s _really_ fucking hungry.

“What… _most important part_?” he scoffs.

Even’s mouth splits into a grin, and he picks up a small, glass spice jar from the assortment placed on the table between them. Isak frowns, watching Even peel his cheese toasties into two pieces, before sprinkling brown powder all over the cheese in the centre.

“Fucking _kardemomme_?”

“I swear by it!” Even presses the sandwich together, before sliding it across the table and into Isak’s grasp. He pauses for a second, wondering if this is all some kind of trap- or worse, a _dare_ , but Even seems to be enjoying his sand which plenty. Isak looks at the spice and takes an experimental sniff. It tickles his nose for sure- but it isn’t _spicy_ , which he guesses means it can’t be too bad.

Just as Even had done, he peels the sandwich apart and sprinkles the cardamom on the inside. Then, he presses the slices back together and takes a large, confident bite.

Chewing, he frowns as Even watches him with a grin. “It actually isn’t bad.” He shrugs, but Even can’t tear his eyes away, before he starts giggling.

“I can’t believe you did that!” he laughs, clutching his stomach. “Just because I said so? _Wow_ Isak. I can’t believe you _fell_ for it!”

“What!” Isak drops the sandwich back onto the plate. “Was this a _dare_? Even! You’re an _asshole_!”

“It wasn’t an _Oppfordre_ dare.” Even reassures him, taking another bite of his own sandwich. “I just saw the kardemomme and wanted to see if you’d do it. But then- when I actually ate mine… I realised it’s actually _quite_ tasty!”

“You’re still an asshole.” Isak says, but the fondness in his tone is impossible to ignore. He, too, lifts his sandwich and takes another bite. He has to agree with Even- it really isn’t awful.

“Hey,” Even nudges him with his knee underneath the table. “Maybe _kardemomme_ will be our always?”

Isak chokes a little on a string of cheese. “Shut the fuck up.” He glares.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Even leaves him sitting there at the small table that faces the window, warm coffee held tightly in his two hands as he steps outside to have an antsy cigarette. He checks his phone a few times, probably waiting for the next dare, but other than that does his best to not make it look like Isak is just a lonely kid on his own with a coffee in the middle of the night. He walks right up to the window, grinning, before breathing hot air against the glass and tracing a small heart with his finger.

Isak blushes when Even draws an ‘I’ in the centre, and Even just laughs at him, smoke flowing from his mouth like a silken cloud, or the remnants of a potion in a fucking Disney movie, glittering above his head. The night has almost fully set in, but the edge of the sun can be seen across the horizon. The dark glow makes Even’s hair shine like gold.

Thinking back on it, everything about Even is pretty magical. Isak isn’t sure why, but it felt as if they’d known each other for years, rather than the actual few hours in which they’d become acquainted with. Their exact first meeting had consisted of some stilted small-talk about 90s hip-hop followed by the most mind-blowing, chest-expanding, spine-tingling kiss Isak had ever received. He’s made better first impressions on people. He’s also made worse.

He’s distracted from watching Even and his cigarette by his phone ringing, _JONAS CALLING_ lighting up the screen. For a few seconds, he does consider just letting the phone ring out- but he’s better than that, and he knows Jonas will likely be worried about him.

“ _Halla_ , Jonas.”

“ _Isak!”_ he sounds slightly panicked, which jars Isak a little. Jonas is usually the very reasonable one of their friendship group. Not a lot spooks him- and he’s probably by far the most sensible. “ _Where are you? Are you with Even?”_

“Uh… _ja_.” Isak replies. “I’m in a coffee shop. Even’s outside having a cigarette.”

_“He’s not right there with you?”_

“ _Nei_ , he’s outside. Why?” Isak huffs. If he’s being honest, Jonas is making him a little irritated. He looks briefly back out to Even who, thankfully, is only halfway through his cigarette.

 _“I looked him up, Issy. There’s stuff you need to know that I bet he hasn’t told you_.”

That makes Isak frown, worry settling and creating a dull hum in the pit of his stomach. “What are you talking about?”

_“Even’s played Oppfordre before. I looked him up on the website Elias showed me- checked the forums for his name. He played last year with some other guys from Elvebakken and their friend died.”_

“W-What?” Isak’s entire face screws up in disbelief. “Jonas, what are you even talking about? That sounds ridiculous.”

“ _It’s_ _true_!” Jonas explains. “ _I don’t know why someone would want to play a game that killed their friend- but it proves he can’t be trusted. I’m not saying don’t… play with him, or whatever but- just be careful Issy. I don’t want you to get hurt or… do something dangerous that you regret.”_

“Okay, okay, okay.” Isak reassures Jonas, but it doesn’t reassure himself. He isn’t sure of the accuracy of Jonas’ information about Even, but he also knows that Jonas wouldn’t tell him unless he was sure. And yeah, Even is a bit of a shady character- but at least it explains why he’s so ready for any dare, any task, without thinking of consequence. He’s _done them all before._

It surprises Isak that the new information doesn’t put him off. Sure, 24 hours ago he would’ve taken off running, as far away from someone as wild and unreadable and fearless as Even but- there’s a small part of him that wants it even more, now that the danger factor has risen, along with his bank account balance. Perhaps Even just had that sort of effect on people.

“ _Isak, you still there?”_

“Oh- yeah, sorry. I’m here. Was that all?”

He can almost feel the roll of Jonas’ eyes, even across the phone. “ _You’ve really pissed off Eva, by the way.”_

“Huh?” Isak scoffs, outraged. “What have I done now?”

Thankfully, there’s a slight smile glowing in his voice when Jonas speaks next. _“Haven’t you been looking at the Oppfordre leaderboards? You’ve got more watchers than her,”_ he says. _“She’s number five. You’re number three. Even is two. Some guy called Mikael just got to number one, but it’s close with him and Even.”_

“Holy shit.” Isak switches the phone to loudspeaker, so he can simultaneously open the _oppfordre_ app and check the leaderboards. It’s clear as day- _ISAKYAKI_ , number fucking three. He’s got over _twenty thousand_ fucking watchers. Even’s stream has almost double.

At that moment, the bell of the café rings loudly and Even bops in cheerily, cheeks pink from the cold with his expensive suit, creased from pedalling the bike for so long. Of course, Even would bring him to a coffee shop halfway across the city- just because he claimed they did the best cinnamon latte’s in the whole of _Norway_. They’d ridden for twenty five minutes, if not longer, as hundreds of watchers filmed them driving past, shouting their names and cheering loudly.

“Got any new dares yet?” Even says, nodding at the Oppfordre app.

_“Isak?”_

He realises the phone is on loudspeaker, just a second too late, and Even frowns as Isak scrambles to turn the speaker off and presses the phone to his ear- rapidly mumbling a quick excuse to Jonas before hanging up the phone.

“Who was that?” Even asks with a teasing smirk. “Girlfriend?”

Isak hopes he isn’t blushing as he shakes his head. “No, no. Girls aren’t really… uh… my area.”

“Oh, okay.” Even is unfazed. If Isak wants to let the more hopeful side of his brain play with his emotions, he could maybe interpret that small smile and narrowed gaze as _hopeful_. But that’s just the hopeful side. Isak has never had good experience in trusting the hopeful side.

“Boyfriend?” Even asks. Isak nearly chokes on his fucking latte. Hope doesn’t come close to describing the feeling in his chest.

“ _Nei-_ god, no!” He now _knows_ his face is burning red. Sure, he’d had a crush on Jonas since they were kids that he’d only _just_ gotten over, after coming out of the closet he’d buried himself in. that doesn’t mean that the wound is any less fresh. “Just Jonas, uh- he’s my best friend. We’ve been like that since we were kids- he was just checking up on me.”

“Oh, cool.” Even just nods, before taking a seat on the stool besides Isak. He’s so long, that once his legs are spread his knee knocks against Isak’s lightly. He reaches up to loosen his bowtie and undo the top button of his shirt, and Isak does his best not to swoon. Paired with the same green bandana, holding the golden, silk strands out of his eyes, Even is a fucking sight to look at.

His phone vibrates, a grateful distraction from the interested twitch in his pants as Even runs a finger across the rim of his coffee cup and licks the remnants of the foam.

“Ooh- new dare!” Even sits up, scooting closer to look at Isak’s phone. “What’s it say?”

“ _DO YOU TRUST EVEN?_ ” Isak reads aloud slowly, with a frown. Even beams at him, and Isak can’t resist it for a second. He smiles back.

“Well, hm… I don’t know-” he teases, before Even jabs him in the side and pretends to be offended. He’s gotten closer and closer, and now, they’re right next to each other, so when Isak turns his face he can feel the warmth of Even’s breath on his skin. Resisting the blush that threatens to flood his body again, he looks down at the phone in his hands. “-I guess.” He throws out a nonchalant shrug, but Even just laughs, and pokes him again. Isak wriggles away, and presses _YES_.

“What’s it say now?” Even asks him, sounding a little concerned as he watches Isak lift the phone off the table, skin white.

Isak can’t even speak. He just turns the phone around so Even can read it- which he does- aloud with a grin.

_“LET EVEN PICK YOUR TATTOO. 100,000kr.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Just… no- don’t make it _big_!” Isak’s head is between his hands as he leans across the desk of a tattoo parlour, watching with his heart hammering in his chest as Even flips through a tattoo book, phone out and recording with a smile.

“What- no giant death skull?” he asks, pressing a hand to his chest. Isak glares at him. He’d already received no short of seventeen texts from Jonas, who is obviously watching intently, jumping at the chance to beg him not to go through with it. The last thing he needs is Even’s attempt at reassuring humour to send him running scared too.

“No giant death skull.” He repeats. “No… flames- no- no fucking heart with _MOM_ written inside. Nothing that has like- I don’t know- barbed wire going around it!”

“So that’s a no to number 67?” Even points at the drawn image of a large skull, flames in the eye sockets, a halo of barbed wire wrapped around it’s head. _MOM_ , is written underneath, on a banner. Isak’s glare intensifies, and Even closes the book with a laugh.

“Don’t worry Isak. I think I have an idea.”

“You boys decided?” the tattoo artist that owns the shop is a young, Asian girl with a full, intricate sleeve on each arm and bright red glasses. Turns out, she’d been watching _Oppfordre_ on her phone as the shop was getting ready to close up for the night- and when they walked in, she already had the needle warmed up. Even better- she reassured them the tattoo would be free of charge, just for the publicity.

That meant that Isak doesn’t really have a choice but to accept. That’s going to be his excuse to Jonas when he inevitably cries a few weeks down the line because he can’t afford laser removal.

“I’ve got an idea- do you have a pen and paper?” Even asks. Isak’s mouth falls open.

“You’re going to _draw it?_ ”

“ _Ja,_ ” Even nods, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I draw quite often actually, and I’ve got an idea.” His tongue peaks out between his lips in concentration, and Isak watches for a few flabbergasted, silent seconds as he sketches something, before handing it off discreetly to the artist, who smiles. “Just- like that, but…uh, like, less shit?” he asks. “Could you do that?”

“I can!” she nods, before looking over to Isak and grinning. “Come on Isak. Are you ready?”

He makes sure to glare extra fiercely at Even as he walks past, sitting down in the chair and peeling his shirt off. At least if the tattoo was on his back he wouldn’t have to look at it every single day and regret his life choices.

“It’s going to be fine!” Even reassures him with a smile. Isak has to disagree, the moment the needle touches his skin and he yelps.

It fucking _painful_. Okay- well, Isak’s always been known as a bit of a drama queen, and he supposes that time he broke his arm falling out of a tree with Jonas was much worse- but it still fucking _hurts_. It’s like a small stinging, and the jab of a needle, over and over and over again. They’re ten minutes in, and he already wants to quit- but logic and pride keeps his mouth closed, aside from the occasional swearing as Even giggles and films him on both their phones, one balanced in each hand. Isak squints at a particularly painful jab. Even is just watching him and smiling.

“Is it nearly finished?” he whines. Even nods, but it doesn’t make him feel better.

“Not long. Maybe five minutes.” The tattoo artist, who he’d now learn was called _Jen_ , tells him. Isak grimaces.

“Aw- is it really that bad?” Even looks a little more sympathetic, for once, and puts his own phone down so he can rub at Isak’s curls fondly. Isak leans into the touch, and for a second, the stinging of the needle goes away.

Only for a second though.

“Ow!”

“I have an idea!” Even steps away, which actually makes him feel worse and disappears behind to where Isak can’t see, as he’s sat leaning forwards over the tattoo-chair. He wants to whine for Even to come back- but then, is that a little desperate? Isak isn’t sure that normal ‘dating’ conventions apply to a guy like Even- or even to someone as pathetically star-struck as himself, and their very twisted situation.

Closing his eyes tightly, Isak just tries to fade out of existence and ignore the pain. He is, however, distracted, by the sudden hum of music around them.

Isak’s eyes open again. Even rounds the corner and smiles at him.

_“Fuck the police coming straight from the underground / A young n**** got it bad cause I'm brown / And not the other colour so police think / They have the authority to kill a minority…”_

Even is nodding his head along, mouthing the words. Okay- so maybe he _is_ an actual fan of Hip-Hop music, and it wasn’t all just some elaborate, _Oppfordre_ -induced lie. Isak never would have guessed it- but the bandana he’s still refusing to remove probably should’ve made it obvious. Even is a total fanboy- but no N.W.A fanboy is a bigger fanboy than _Isak_.

Isak opens his mouth, and winces- but the pain is certainly less intense when he starts rapping along to the same song he and Jonas had been blaring out of shitty speakers in their bedrooms since they were ten. “ _Fuck that shit, cause I ain't the one / For a punk motherfucker with a badge and a gun /To be beating on, and thrown in jail / We can go toe to toe in the middle of a cell-_ ” he’d never claimed to have a fluent grasp on the English language- but one thing Isak knew for sure was lyrics, and it makes him smile to himself to know that Even is watching him, two cameras out, mouth forming a small ‘o’ in awe- because Isak really doubts he was expecting it either. “ _Fucking with me cause I'm a teenager!_ ” he yells, and the pain disappears completely with every shout. “ _With a little bit of gold and a pager-”_

“-Sorry to interrupt-” Isak stops singing, and the music fades into the background as he cranes his neck to look at Jen, who’s grinning at them both. “-but Isak, you’re done. Here,” she reaches down, picking up a small, oval shaped mirror, and holds it so his tattoo is visible, just in the centre of his left shoulder blade. “Hope you like it.”

Isak looks into the mirror and his breath catches.

It’s small- just as small as he would’ve wanted it if the tattoo was done by choice- a tiny little jar, half full, with _KARDEMOMME_ written in block capitals on the label. A tiny red heart sits on either side of the jar. There’s a fair amount of blood around the small design, but Isak ignores it. He turns and looks back at Even, who’s watching him expectantly as he aims the camera to catch the reflection, eyes shining and unsure. Isak beams at him, and after a few short seconds, Even beams back.

“I’m glad you like it.” He says quietly.

“I love it.” Isak grins. _Oppfordre_ beeps on his phone- probably alerting them to the dare being completed, as Even tucks their phones away into his pockets straight after- but Isak doesn’t care about the game so much anymore. All he sees is Even, standing above him, looking down, smiling.

“Are you happy you trusted me?” he asks, and Isak nods. He’s never been so sure in his life.


	3. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things work perfectly. In another universe, the _real_ one- things fall apart.

CHAPTER THREE: TRUST

 

 

 

_DO YOU TRUST ISAK, YES OR NO?_

“Oh my god- I’ve already got your tattoo planned in my head!” Isak squeals, excited as he watches Even tap ‘ _YES’_ without a second thought- a gesture which makes his heart flutter just slightly. Even trusts him, so _completely_ despite the fact that they barely knew each other. He hadn’t hesitated for even a second. “You’ll love it!” he promises, but they’re both surprised by the words that come up on the screen.

 

 _GET TO PARKEN ST. 10 MINUTES_.

 

“Oh.” Isak deflates slightly, disappointed that he can’t give Even a matching cheese-toastie tattoo to his _cardamom_. Even just shrugs.

“Maybe next time.” He says, mind already set on the next task. “Let’s see what’s in store for us at Parken St.”

They head over to where Even’s bike is chained outside the store, Isak resting against a lamppost as Even fiddles with the lock. A few people their age, perhaps a little younger, go past and whisper excitedly, pointing in their direction. Isak keeps his eyes downcast. He isn’t really used to walking around the city- _his_ city, his home- and having so many people already know who he is.

Even is folding up the bike chain and stuffing it into his back-pack when the car, sleek, black with tinted windows pulls up alongside them. The driver’s side door swings open and a boy hops out- young, tall (not as tall as Even- but that would be quite the feat) with bouncing, dark hair sitting around his ears, just brushing the tops of his shoulders. He’s dressed all in back, holding a large enough rectangular piece of paper in his hands. Without a word, he thrusts it into Isak’s arms and pulls out his phone.

“Hey, names Mikael. Love your work- hold that up?” His eyes are fixed on his phone, probably angling up the camera to get a half-decent photo of a very bewildered Isak, holding a glossy sign that reads _OPPFORDRE OSLO_ in block capital letters. “Thanks.” He then gives a nod to Even, who’s watching him with a narrowed, suspicious gaze. Mikael hops back into the car, the engine screeches and he pulls away. Isak splutters.

“What the fuck? Do you know that guy?” he asks, looking between Even, and the small sign, which he can now see is actually a large sticker. Even pulls the bike off the rack, shaking his head.

“Here, our dare is leading us to the bottom of the highway. We should be there in five.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you trust me?” Isak asks. It’s a simple enough question- the very same one the game had asked only minutes before, but at the edge of the highway, with the wind streaming through both their heads of hair and the bright lights of cars and trucks blinding them every few seconds, it feels considerably more weighted. Even blinks a few times, as if there’s no consideration necessary.

“With my life.” He replies, and then he presses accept.

 _DON’T FUCKING DO IT_ – Jonas had texted him that the moment the dare came through. Isak can imagine him, sat at that party with Magnus, Mahdi, Noora, Sana, Vilde, Chris and the other usual faces. He can imagine Eva, staring at the screen, eyes wide with shock. He’ll bet any sum of money that none of them believe he could ever go through with something so incredibly reckless and stupid.

A few hours ago he might not have either.

But there is someone who seems to believe in him. Even hops onto his bike and Isak settled on the back, grip already blisteringly tight around his middle. He clips the phone into the angled holder on the front, and the video stream starts. Isak doesn’t even want to know just how many watchers are pouring into their feed to see if they’ll actually do it, but he can imagine it’s enough to send Even soaring to the top of the leader board.

If they even live that long.

His phone vibrates again, probably another warning from Jonas, but Isak ignores it. Even is sliding his bandana down the front of his face, tying it tightly behind the back of his head. So his eyes are covered completely, he takes the _OFFORDRE OSLO_ sticker that Isak had still been holding tightly when the dare came through, and plastered it over the top of the makeshift blindfold.

 

 

_GET THROUGH THE BJØRVIKATUNNELEN. BLINDFOLDED._

 

 

“Even!” Isak shouts over the roaring of traffic, just before he has the chance to push off. “Do you trust me?” he asks again. Even doesn’t miss a beat.

“With my fucking _life_ , now let’s _do this_.”

He can tell Even is well past nervous, he’s _shit-_ scared as they make their start down the highway. His only direction is Isak, screaming behind him and grabbing his side, trying to help them swerve the oncoming traffic and baffled, angry citizens in their cars, waving fists and shouting as the two boys risk their lives for a stupid game they know nothing about. It doesn’t help that it’s dark now, the sun fully set, with only the streetlights to guide them. Isak’s stomach turns, and really, he wants nothing more than to jump off the bike and roll away onto the side of the highway for safety- but Even’s knuckles are white on the handlebars and his long, beautiful legs are pumping faster than Isak thought possible, and before they know it, they’re in the tunnel, and there’s no turning back.

“Left, _LEFT!_ ” Isak screams, and he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding his breath until then, when they narrowly missed ploughing into a speeding car that was itching to overtake. Legally, cyclists weren’t even allowed in the tunnel, but the last thing on Isak’s mind then was what the police would do if they saw them. All he could think about was Even- the heat of his sweat-soaked skin underneath that stupidly expensive dress shirt, and the hammering of his heart, thrumming underneath Isak’s clutching fingertips

“What now Isak? You _have_ to tell me what now!”

“Uh, right- _RIGHT_!” Isak grabs him from the other side, and they swerve away from another car, but it’s closer this time, and Isak feels his foot brush up against the side of the metal. He holds Even tighter, which does nothing for their already shaky balance, but makes him _feel_ better, for a few seconds until the blare of a horn behind them makes him almost leap off the back.

“ISAK! What is it?!”

“Oh my _god_ …” Isak’s voice is so small, it’s almost a whisper, and the sound is panicking Even, who’s still blind. He can feel Isak, probably so tense against him, but Isak can’t will his mouth to move. Even questions, again and again, louder and louder but Isak doesn’t respond until they swerve again, bike wobbling on its two loose wheels and suddenly, Isak’s survival instincts kick into gear.

“HARD LEFT!”

Even does as he’s told, and they swerve to the very last lane of the tunnel, just out of harm’s way as the giant sixteen-wheeler truck storms past, over the space they once occupied. Isak’s heart is hammering, but for some reason, he’s smiling.

He’s never felt so grateful to just be alive.

“Where are we now? Are we close?”

Isak looks up, and ahead of them for the first time. The light signalling the tunnels end glow like the shining gates of fucking _Heaven_ before them, and Isak squeezes Even’s middle, tightly and quickly.

“We’re here! Even, look!” he reached forwards, untying the bandana from around Even’s face just as they cross the threshold of the tunnel, reaching the end of the highway where it splits off into roads on the left and the right. Dead ahead of them is nothing but a large, old stone building and a statue. The first thing Even does is look down to his phone, where _DARE COMPELTED_ flashes in green before he hollers, whooping excitedly, brakes screeching as they swerve to a stop at the edge of the road.

Then, the bike is tossed aside, and Even pulls Isak into his arms, lifting him completely off the ground. Then, his phone beeps again.

 

 

_YOU ARE NOW IN FIRST PLACE._

 

 

“Even, look!” Isak points to the screen as Even sets him down and produces his phone from his back pocket. His eyes are shining, perhaps with excitement or- perhaps even with _tears_. Isak himself feels  little bit emotional over the whole situation- but then, they had nearly just died. He still wasn’t sure if that was worth being the top of some made-up leader board- but it had for sure made Even happy.

For now, that was good enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Knowing they’ll definitely have some free-time before their next dare, Even lets Isak lead him (thankfully, this time, not blindfolded) down to the skatepark. Even was still relatively new to this part of town, so Isak was more than happy to show him one of his favourite childhood hangout spots. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d been dragged down there by Jonah, or Magnus, or Mahdi to fuck about on skateboards and smoke weed. Even pulls another cigarette out of the box tucked into his jacket, and Isak actually accepts when one is held out to him in offering.

His phone keeps beeping, new texts from Jonas and the others pouring in every single second, but Isak can’t be bothered for another lecture. He puts his phone on silent, and slips it into the pocket of the expensive coat. Even exhales smoke over their heads as he silently checks his own texts.

“So what about your friends?” he asks, after a few minutes of comfortable shared silence. Isak rolls the cigarette between his fingers thoughtfully. He’d never cared much for the taste, but now, the ashy flavour reminded him of Even’s lips, and how much he wanted to taste them again. “Is this like, _your spot_?”

“Ha. Not really.” Isak shrugs, eyeing the graffiti covering the slopes around them. Jonas and Mahdi had done a little of it themselves, whilst Isak and Magnus hung back, looking out for cops. Most of it is sprayed over by artists with far better talents than theirs, but throughout the scrawls of colour, Isak can make out Jonas’ tag, bleeding pink behind the pictures. “We used to come here all the time but then… Jonas started seeing Eva so we didn’t so much anymore.”

“Eva?” Even questions. Isak shrugs, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, _ja._ ” He mumbles, looking off into the distance. “She’s uh- well, she _was_ Jonas’ girlfriend, for a while. They broke up last year.” He decides not to go into detail about the exact reason for Jonas and Eva’s _uncoupling_ because, selfishly, he really doesn’t want Even to think badly of him. He’d certainly have reason to if he knew: Isak broke up his best friends relationship because he was _jealous_.

“Are they still friends?”

Isak shrugs. “Uh, sort of. Eva’s… I don’t know, a bit of an asshole when she wants to be, you know? She and Jonas are… they’re okay- but we were good friends too and… we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“Why do you think that is?” Even asks, tossing the smoked-out cigarette butt off into the centre of the slopes. Isak watches as it hits the wall, before rolling down into the bottom of the pit. His own cigarette feels heavy between his fingertips.

“Eva’s kinda… insecure, I think? He mom goes away a lot for work, and she doesn’t hang out with Jonas so much anymore, so instead she spends all her time just like… getting trashed at parties and hooking up with random boys who don’t give a shit about her-” he’s bitching, and Isak knows he’s fucking bitching, because it feels _good_ to unload all of this shit on someone as beautifully impartial as Even. Or, maybe he’s the most biased of all- he’s just the first person to be biased _towards_ Isak’s point of view rather than against. Everyone else knew how much of a dick he’d been to Eva last year. And then there was Even- looking at him, nodding, listening, phone clutched tightly in his hand. “-and now she’s playing _Oppfordre_. Probably because she loves the attention- more than the money, you know? I think she sort of needs to have all these people watching her, just to make her feel better about herself.”

In his pocket, Isak can feel his phone vibrating over and over, so he reluctantly shuts up, tossing the cigarette into the skate-slopes along with Even’s, before pulling it out. There’s over fifty texts on his phone- one even from his dad, asking what all the activity in his bank account his about. Isak swears under his breath, before typing out a bullshit excuse about online poker. The last thing he needs is his _dad_ finding out what he’d been doing for money.

The only text that actually catches his eye (he’d put his and Jonas’ chat on _Do Not Disturb_ over an hour ago) is from Magnus.

 

_Til Isak_

_I’m at the party too. Dude, you need to WATCH EVA, like now_.

 

 

“Get Eva’s stream up.” He nudges Even, who’s phone makes a little beeping noise before he swipes away from whatever he was on, and scrolls through the leader board to find Eva’s stream, currently sitting in a comfortable fourth place. Even is first. Mikael is second. Isak is third.

Eva is fourth.

“Wait- what the fuck is she doing? Eva _hates_ heights-”

“Yeah, says here on her profile.” Even says, and Isak stiffens.

It’s Eva. She’s probably a little bit drunk, after being at the party for a few hours- but the determination in her face looks stone cold sober. Isak can make out Chris and Vilde and even Sana, behind her, tears in their eyes, begging her to come back inside. Eva doesn’t seem to be listening.

From another angle, another watcher, Isak can make out the tall ladder between the two apartment block windows. Through the other side, he can see a few of the other kids from school- jock types, looking a little scared, a little excited, waving her through.

They’re at least twenty stories up.

“Eva, no…” he mutters under his breath, and the mantra is parroted by Jonas, who appears suddenly, pushing his way past the girls to lean out the window, screaming for Eva to stop as she takes her first few shaking step across the ladder before falling to her knees, grabbing onto the rungs.

“You don’t have to do this!” Someone- probably _Christoffer Schistad_ , who Isak can now make out on the other side of the building, steadying the ladder as Eva makes her way further, tears in her eyes as she pulls herself across the length.

“Eva- you have to stand up!” Vilde’s squeak is easily recognisable through the blur of others. Someone- Noora, judging by the hair, elbows her sharply. “What?” Vilde crosses her arms over her chest. “The dare doesn’t count unless she stands up- and films it! Eva, your phone!”

Arms and legs now shaking dangerously, Eva pulls herself back up to standing. She’s halfway across the ladder, and Isak hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath until Even’s arm creeps around his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. The embrace brushes against his fresh tattoo, which hurts, but the dull ache is the last thing on his mind as he continues to watch. Words fail him, eyes are locked on the screen as Eva makes it another few steps, before she falls, crying, back onto her hands and knees over the ladder. Her phone goes flying as she does, falling all the way down into the street below with a faint smash that makes Isak wince.

 

_DARE FAILED_

 

“Oh my god.” Even mumbles under his breath as Chris’ hand comes through the window, pulling a hysterical, sobbing Eva into the safety of his arms. One by one, the watchers video feeds switch off, and just as quickly as it blew in, the spectacle is over.

Isak’s phone beeps again

 

 _YOU ARE NOW IN THIRD PLACE_.

.

“Should we go?” Even asks, “You know, to the party? Maybe see if she’s okay?”

Isak nods wordlessly, hopping up from the bench. Even pulls him into another soft hug, and silently, they mount the bike, peddling off once again into the darkness of the summer night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The hall leading to the small apartment where the party was being hosted is cluttered full of guests and watchers alike, all of which cheer and laugh, phones out, cameras on as Isak and Even push their way through. Isak isn’t sure at what point it was on their journey up that Even grabbed his hand and held it tightly, but he certainly isn’t complaining. Even’s hands are large, warm, not the least bit clammy. It makes him feel just that little bit more like a superstar, pulling this giant, gorgeous fucking celebrity along behind him into the party where his friends are waiting. It’s been about an hour since the whole _Eva_ incident, but nobody seems to be dwelling on it much, which is odd.

“Isak!” thankfully, it’s Jonas who spots him first. Isak smiles awkwardly. He’d been avoiding his best friends calls and texts all night- but Eva has surely been enough distraction from that. Isak’s smile isn’t returned by Jonas- who’s dark eyebrows sit in a worried frown as he looks from Isak, up to Even and down at their conjoined hands. “I need to tell you-” he starts to say, and Isak feels Even’s hand slip from his. He turns around, but Even isn’t anywhere to be seen. Jonas continues talking behind him, but his voice fades into the background noise of the party.

“Is Eva okay?” he asks. Jonas looks to the ground awkwardly.

“She… uh- she might be in one of the rooms down the hall. But Isak, wait-” he tries again, but Isak doesn’t have time to listen. He’s just watched Eva nearly kill herself for a stupid game- and it doesn’t matter how fun it is, getting recognised and having watchers. He’s just about ready to call the whole thing quits- because nothing is worth the life of a girl he’d once called his best friend.

Pushing past Jonas, Isak makes his way down the hall of the flat. Eva isn’t in any of the open rooms where the guests gather, staring at him leaving only one option- a closed door. Isak’s never really let that stop him before, so he turns the handle and steps into the bedroom.

He freezes in the doorway. Eva sits up, and retracts her mouth from where it had previously been entwined with Christoffer fucking _Schistad_ \- the only other boy Isak had ever kissed, ever _liked -_ up until very, _very_ recently.

“Uh- Isak, wait!”                                                                   

“ _Nei_.” Isak shakes his head, shocked- shocked that _Eva_ would go _there_ , less shocked that Chris would too. Still, it’s hardly a comforting thought that the two people who he thought were his friends- despite _everything_ \- could be so careless with his heart. Tears sting Isak’s eyes and a dull pain builds in his chest. Eva and Chris stare at him silently.

“I’ll… I’ll fucking leave you to it.”

He turns swiftly, leaving out of the room. The only thing on Isak’s mind is finding Even and getting the fuck out of there, leaving the game behind, leaving Eva, Chris, Jonas- maybe this is what Jonas was trying to tell him, if only he’d listened. Maybe this is why everyone at the fucking party had been staring at he and Even since they’d walked in.

“Isak fucking _Valtersen!_ ” Eva seems to have other ideas, and Isak turns, tearfully, to face her. everyone else around them is watching, whispering, looking between the two. They’re probably trying to decide who’s side they’re on. Isak wouldn’t be surprised if they’d all taken hers.

“Leave it, Eva.” Isak says quietly. “Fuck you. Do what you want, hook up with who you fucking want-”

“Oh what?” Eva roars at him- she’s drunk, but not _that_ drunk. The bite in her voice is from anger, not alcohol, and fire burns behind her eyes. Isak freezes. For all he’s done to Eva- he’s _never_ seen her lose her rag like this. “Because I’m so fucking _insecure,_ is that it?”

“ _What?_ ”

“I fucking _heard_ you.” She practically spits, throwing the bottle of beer in her hands in the direction of his feet. It misses, smashing against the wooden floor. Liquid spills beneath them. Isak takes a step backwards, away from the puddle.

“On the fucking _Oppfordre_ stream- talking _shit_ about me with your new boyfriend? Saying I’m just an _asshole_ who gets trashed all the time? Really- me? The _asshole_? If only everyone here knew how much of a _fucking snake_ you were, Isak Valtersen.”

Isak doesn’t even know what to say. He’s speechless, frozen, finished. Questions swarm around his brain- nothing makes sense. His body itches to run, but instead, he takes another few shaking steps backwards until he’s back in the main room, Eva following him with darkness in her eyes and a snarl on her pretty lips. Chris appears from the bedroom, looking over at him apologetically. Isak looks away.

He wants to leave. He wants _Even_.

“I go to parties and hook up with random strangers, yeah? How’s _Chris_ for a random stranger, huh?”

“How could you?!” Isak yells back. It had taken a few, stumbling moments, but the anger had built in him suddenly and rapidly. Eva and fucking _Chris-_ it’s all he can think about, all he can see inside his head. Eva and the only other boy he’d ever _liked_. “With _Chris_! When you knew that he and I were-”

“Were _what_ , Isak? You were _nothing_! Just another fucking hook-up. Or what?” she huffs a pitying laugh. “Did you think Chris actually cared about you? He hooked up with you _once_ , because you were a fucking first year closet-case and he wanted to know what it was like. That’s all you were. A fucking _experiment_.”

“Eva-” Chris tries to chime in, but it’s way too late. The damage is already done, and instead of being upset, Isak’s starting to feel the same rage Eva probably does. His tearful gaze hardens into a glare, and the only thing that stops him from saying something he really, _really_ might regret is his phone, the familiar chime of _Oppfordre_. A new fucking dare. What _perfect_ timing.

“You know why I said you were fucking insecure, Eva?” he asks, getting his phone out of his pocket. She sniffs back angry tears, folding her arms over her chest. “Because you _are_ , and everyone fucking knows it. You think you’re so fucking cool- but the only reason boys like Chris hang out with you is because they know you’ll put out- single or otherwise.”

“How _could_ you say-”

“-How could _you?_ ” Isak sniffs harshly. He doesn’t want to let Eva see him cry- let her know how broken she’s really made him feel. Chris is watching them, but this time, he is silent. The whole party is. They’re all looking at their phones. Isak looks to the left, and someone even has _Oppfordre_  streaming to the TV.

“Are you gonna do it?” a voice says from beside him. Isak frowns, before reading the dare on his phone screen. His heart drops.

“He won’t do it.” Eva mutters, throat clogged with unshed tears and further anger. “Isak’s just a pathetic snake. He doesn’t have the balls.”

Isak looks from his phone to Eva and back again.

 

_NEW: COMPLETE EVA’S DARE. 90,000 Kr_

 

It’s Even’s voice first, appearing from behind him that pleads: “Isak, wait, don’t-” but Isak ignores him. He locks eyes with Eva.

“I’ll do it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Isak doesn’t hang around for Jonas to catch wind of what’s going on and stop him before he has a chance to make it to the window. Even chases after him, calling his name, but he ignores him too. Chris and a few of the other penetrator guys rush over to the opposite apartment to steady the ladder from the other end, and with a new rush of confidence, Isak pulls open the window.

He turns, giving one last look to Eva, before climbing out onto the ledge.

“Wait, Isak- please, think about this!” Even pleads, but Isak can’t hear anything with the cool night winds whipping around his ears. The quickest way to get across is to go fast- he knows that. He’s never been particularly scared of heights, like Eva, but it’s fucking _cold_ and _very high_ and the ladder is shaking beneath his feet. Slowly, he pulls out his phone and accepts the dare, opening up the stream to a poorly framed view of his face.

It’ll have to do.

Isak takes the first shaky step, and the voices behind him fade into nothing. He looks at Chris, who’s holding a hand out, ready to catch him. Isak resists the urge to snort as he takes a few more steps, making it at least halfway. As if Chris would ever fucking save him from anything.

“Isak!” Even screams his name again, but Isak can’t look back now. He’s stood halfway between two fucking tower-blocks, a dirty alley below him. Somewhere down there is Eva’s smashed up IPhone. He doesn’t want to join it, so he takes another few shaky steps until he’s almost in Chris’ reach.

“Isak come on, I’ll help you!” Chris says. Isak glares at him.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” he snaps, before rushing the last quarter of the ladder, falling against the window, and rolling inside with the help of a tall guy he doesn’t recognise. He can hear cheering from the opposite window behind him, he can even hear his phone vibrating, the _DARE COMPLETE_ chime ringing along with a cash register noise.

 

 _ **YOU ARE NOW IN FIRST PLACE** , _ it reads- but Isak doesn’t pay attention to any of that. He looks back through the window, and Eva faces him, tears running down her face. He wants to say sorry. He wants to say _fuck you_.

Just behind her, Even stands. His arms are folded across his chest. He avoids Isak’s eye contact. He looks guilty- but Isak can’t quite figure out why. Even disappears from the room, and Isak makes his way through the second apartment, out into the hall.

“Isak!”

Jonas catches him on the stairs, a few of the other party-goers just behind, cheering and patting him on the back on their way up. Jonas doesn’t look so jovial.

“Look, if this is another lecture-”

“Just fucking _listen_ to me, for once in your life, Isak, oh my god!” Jonas snaps. “I’ve been trying to fucking tell you-” just behind them, Isak catches sight of Even, rushing up the stairs, rushing towards him. He still looks guilty. Isak looks back to a frowning Jonas.

“What is it?” he asks, and another question dawns on him. Something that didn’t quite add up. Something that he hadn’t thought of, till then. “Wait… Jonas-”

“I can’t fucking _wait_ anymore, Isak. I have to tell you-”

Isak isn’t listening. He’s frowning, looking around at nothing in particular, trying to figure how his own puzzle. “-How did Eva _know_ all that stuff that I said?” he asks quietly, more to himself than anyone else, but Jonas freezes in front of him, mouth half open, eyes guilty.

“He… _Even_ , uh…” Jonas stutters and fumbles with his words in was Isak has never seen him do. _Even_? He cant help but think. _What the fuck does any of this have to do with-_

“Even had you on the stream, Isak.” Jonas finally gets his words together, breathless, and just like that- Isak’s heart breaks like the glass screen of Eva’s IPhone. It’s a surprisingly physical pain, ripping through his chest. His mouth pulls into a small, confused frown.

Jonas continues-“He was recording you.” And then Even stops, frozen at the bottom of the flight of stairs. He looks up, and tearfully, Isak looks back down. It’s too late. That’s why Even had been rushing up so quickly. He wanted to stop him from finding out, but it’s _too_ _late_.

“That was his dare.” Jonas waves his phone in front of his face, and he can read the words, clear as day. _GET EVA TO FIGHT WITH ISAK. 2500 Kr._

“How fucking _could you_?” he pushes past Jonas, marching down the stairs to pound his fists against Even’s chest. The boy stumbles back a little, but doesn’t put up much of a fight. He stands there and takes it as if he deserves it- but Isak can tell it hadn’t hurt him, even an inch. He wishes it has, but the look on Even’s face is enough. It does hurt. Maybe just a little more than physically.

“Why- was it worth the fucking money, huh Even?” he sobs, instantly hysterical, and Jonas is right behind him, pulling him back as he goes for Even again, reaching up to do some damage to his pretty fucking face. “Ruin my friendship for what- two thousand fucking kroner? How could you fucking do that to me, I thought we were-”

“-Isak, wait, we _are_!”

“We are _nothing_!” Isak spits. “I never want to fucking see you again, I don’t want to play this fucking game anymore!” he snatches himself away from Jonas and pushes past Even, rushing down the stairs and out into the night air. The party continues above them, he can hear the music. A few watchers are out on the street corner, hoodies and bandanas pulled tightly over their faces, concealing their identities. The heavy coat itches Isak’s skin, and he pulls it off, tossing it into the street. Even and Jonas aren’t far behind him, calling his name, but Isak doesn’t want to listen.

Then he spots it.

A cop car sits just across the road. An officer is seated inside, eating a bag of chips, reading something on his phone. Just a standard cop patrol car.

“Isak, don’t even think about it!” Even’s seen him too, but it’s too late. Isak runs across the road, narrowly missing being struck by a lorry. The lorry is the only thing keeping Even across the road from him, and that buys him a few seconds to bang on the window of the cop car until the window is wound down, and with an annoyed huff, the driver looks up.

“Yes, kid? What is it?”

“I need to confess!” Isak pants. “I- uh, look, I’ll show you.”

The cop looks him up and down, disinterested. He frowns, when Isak loads up _Oppfordre_ and waves it in his face.

“ISAK _NO_!” Even roars, but it’s too late.

“Snitch!” one of the watchers yells. A few others join him. The cop looks over, frowning, but doesn’t move to get out of his car.

“Look, kid- what is this? A _youtube_ video or something?”

“No, I- uh, it’s a game! Look, right- people do dares, for money and it’s all online and my friend- she nearly died! And so did I! it’s dangerous- it needs to be shut down, people are getting hurt and, him over there-” he turns to point at Even, but all he manages to catch is the glimpse of a bike, peddling away at lightning speed. Jonas is still there, stood in the awning of the tower block, watching him worriedly with his hand over his mouth. Isak feels his heart sink into his gut and suddenly, everything feels very wrong. His eyes drift over to the group of watchers.

“Fucking snitch!”

“Snitches get stitches!

They’re all yelling, phones out, torches on. The cop squints, looking over to them, and that’s enough to cause them to scatter, taking off into the night. It doesn’t make Isak feel any safer. _Snitch_. It rings in his head like an alarm. _Snitches get stitches._

“Sorry kid- I don’t really know what you want me to do about this? File a report at the station if you’re that worried.” The cop waves him away from the window, and winds it back closed before pulling off the corner and driving away. Isak turns to look at Jonas, who’s hands are balled into mall fists, held against his head. He looks scared. Jonas is usually the one thing Isak can rely on in the whole world to keep him safe- and he’s _scared._

“Come inside!” he calls from across the road. Isak’s head moves on its own accord, shaking _no_. He isn’t sure what- maybe it’s an evolutionary kick, coming to life inside his body, but his feet itch to run. He isn’t safe. He needs to escape.

Without word to Jonas or the cop, Isak takes of sprinting round the block. Jonas is yelling behind him, but the watchers are there too. _Snitches get stitches_ \- he’d been fucking _warned_. He’d just never thought that the warning was any more than just a _warning_.

He’s barely made it a few blocks in the direction of home before a familiar looking black car with dark, tinted windows pulls up beside him and a boy he knows only as _Mikael_000_ hops out with a guilty, knitted frown and something dark wrapped around his fist.

“Woah.” Isak stumbles backwards as Mikael jumps in front of him. He’s quite attractive now that Isak has time to look at him- with tanned skin, bouncing hair and a soft look on his face.

“I’m sorry, dude.” Is all he says, reaching backwards with his fist closed tightly, mouth pulled into an uncomfortable grimace. “Like, real sorry.”

And then, Isak feels a fist collide with his nose. It isn’t the first time he’s been punched in the face. It probably wont be the last time he gets punched in the face. But _damn_ \- Mikael’s puppy-dog eyes and floaty brown hair does a pretty good job at covering up the fact that he’s ridiculously strong. Like, knock Isak unconscious in one-punch strong.

When he hits the floor, Isak thinks of Even, and wonders what else might’ve all just been a lie.


	4. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak wakes up in unfamiliar surroundings. That's just the beginning of the end.

CHAPTER FOUR: STOLEN

 

 

 

It’s dark when he wakes up.

Groaning, Isak forces his body to sit up. He’s been laid out on something hard, probably the floor. However, it isn’t cold to match the darkness- so he can’t just be out on the pavement where Mikael had attacked him. He calls out a groggy hello, but nobody answers. His voice echoes in what seems to be a small room, making his head ache as he feels the bruise begin to form around his eye.

Then, in front of him, a small square lights up.

“ _HELLO ISAK_.” The voice is robotic- obviously computer generated. Isak crawls forwards and his movement must trigger some kind of sensory lights, because the room is suddenly given a dull, neon pink glow. Its small, narrow, long. The floor he crawls across is cool metal, and the little box TV that looks like it hasn’t been used since 2003 sparkles at him from across the room. _“YOU BROKE THE RULES”_

There’s a few pictures of him that he recognises from facebook, Jonas’ Instagram, the Nissen school website. They float around the page, and big red X’s fall down, covering his eyes. Isak’s stomach turns.

“ _YOU BROKE THE RULES”_ The little robot voice repeats. _“YOU ARE NOW A PRISONER OF THE GAME. HOW TO ESCAPE? SIMPLE!”_ The cartoon bars that had fallen over a particularly happy-looking photo of him snapped in the cafeteria by Mahdi dissolve into pixels, falling off the screen. _“WIN THE GAME. WIN OPPFORDRE. YOU ARE IN SECOND PLACE.”_

Only then does Isak realise his phone is still in his back pocket. He fumbles for it, shocked that cracked or broken. The same video is playing there too, on loop. _WIN THE GAME. YOU ARE IN SECOND PLACE. WIN THE GAME_.

Isak doesn’t want to win- he wants _out_ \- so he exits the app and quickly opens up his text messages, which are swamped with notifications. Jonas, of course. Eva, surprisingly. Magnus. Mahdi.

 

**_Mahahahadi:_ ** _WHERE ARE YOU BRO?_

 

**_Mags:_ ** _ISAK ARE YOU OKAY?_

 

**_YO-NAS:_ ** _ISAK PLEASE I’M WORRIED_

 

**_YO_ ** _- **NAS** : WHERE ARE YOU_

 

**_EVA:_ ** _ISAK, I’M SO SORRY, WHERE ARE YOU?_

 

But those aren’t what catch Isak’s eye as he pulls himself up to his feet, looking around at the faintly lit walls. _SNITCHES GET STITCHES_ has been sprayed in illuminous pink paint, at least five feet high. Aside from the punch, Isak isn’t sure what kind of stitches the game could possibly be talking about.

And then he reads the texts from his dad.

**_PAPPA_ **

 

_Son? Seen a lot of money going into your account? Are you okay?_

 

_Texted Jonas and he said not to worry. Please be careful._

 

_Isak? What’s happening with the account?????_

 

_ISAK WHY HAS ALL THE MONEY BEEN DRAINED FROM OUR BANK ACCOUNTS?_

 

_ISAK ANSWER THE PHONE PLEASE_

 

_?????!!!!_

 

_ISAK WHY ARE YOU NOT ANSWERING? THIS IS SERIOUS._

 

_ALL THE MONEY IS GONE FROM OUR ACCOUNTS. THIS ISNT A JOKE._

 

_CALL ME._

 

 

 

This is a new type of pain.

Sharp and shallow breaths make his chest feel like it’s going to cave in on itself. Isak’s entire body is tingling, and his phone shakes in his hand as he scrolls through the texts from his father. He quickly switches over to his online banking app- and his dad is right. Everything is gone. All the money he’d made in the last night. All the money that was ever even in there in the first place.

 _HOW TO ESCAPE? WIN THE GAME. GET TO THE SKATEPARK AT MIDNIGHT._ The video is still playing, so Isak sprints over to the TV and puts his foot through the glass. It hurts- the thing is tougher than it looks- but it helps to diminish the pain in his chest by just a fraction.

Then, startling him, the end of the room seems to open, and the light from a few nearby streetlights begin to pour in. Isak rushes out, looking behind him to see that he was being kept in some kind of shipping container. The time on his phone reads _22:58._ He hasn’t been gone for long. It feels like years.

Looking around, he doesn’t immediately recognise where he is. It’s some sort of carpark near the Oslo Docks- with the water right behind him. That explains why it’s so fucking cold, and he pulls his jacket tighter around his slim frame. He wants to _cry_ \- but for some reason, he just cant. He’s frozen, stood in the middle of the nowhere, phone gripped tightly.

And then he hears Even’s voice.

“ _ISAK_!” It’s a whisper-shout, beckoning him into the shadows of the parking structure just opposite them. It’s some kind of garage, probably where the shipping people keep their vehicles. Isak doesn’t want to be anywhere near Even after everything- he’s the one who dragged him into this mess in the first place- but it’s dark and he’s alone and he’s afraid-

And there’s Even.

He takes a step out of the shadows, face illuminated by streetlight. He’s dressed in the tuxedo, even still, and Isak can’t tear his eyes away. His bandana is nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by an awfully familiar looking burgundy snapback, worn backwards over his beautiful blonde hair.

Isak’s heart falls into his stomach, and as Even reaches out, pulling his hand and yanking him back into the shadows of the parking structure, fresh tears spill from his eyes.

“Get off me.” he tries to pull away, but Even’s grip is strong. His free hand moves up to hold Isak’s face, large hands spread over his features, thumbs resting just under his eyes, swiping at the tears that fall one after the other.

“Isak, please, listen to me-”

“-Why should I listen to anything you have to say?!”

“Because, you’re a prisoner now.” Isak freezes. How could Even have _possibly_ known that? “You’re a prisoner of the game…” he sighs. “Just like _me_.”

Silence passes between the two of them. This time, when Even’s thumb catches a tear, Isak doesn’t bat it away. He stares up at Even, eyes wide, mouth hung open in shock. Even clenches his jaw, waiting, anticipating a reaction. Isak isn’t sure he can make his face work anymore to give him one.

“Listen to me- please?” Even whispers, briefly breaking their eye contact to look around, as if someone might just be a corner away, listening in, ready to attack. Isak nods wordlessly.

“That guy, Mikael- he was my best friend when I went to Bakka. And then, last year, we decided to play this game- _Oppfordre._ We actually made it nearly far- we were at the top of the leader-board and then we got this dare.” Biting his lip, Even closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His hand on Isak’s face tightens, before falling down to his shoulder, stroking the side of his neck tenderly. Isak can’t help but shudder at the intimacy of the gesture. “Our friend- Yousef- he had to do something stupid. He had to hang from this… construction crane. And he was slipping and we told him to stop but-” he cuts off his own sentence sharply, ripping his eyes away from Isak’s. When Even looks away, Isak can see the tears forming at his lash line, making his eyes redden. “He fell.” He whispers, and Isak can only think of Eva and that stupid fucking ladder.

“You told the cops-” he fills in the blanks, and Even nods, actually able to bare looking at him again.

“We snitched and… from then we were prisoners.”

“But Even- don’t you see, if we just try the cops again they can do something-”

“-You don’t understand!” Even raises his voice, shaking Isak slightly by the shoulder. The reaction is sudden, manic even, and it makes Isak stiffen. Even looks guilty, death grip on Isak’s collar softening. That doesn’t take the edge off. “Look, Isak,” he lowers his voice again. “These people… they fucked with my _whole life_. They… fucked with my social media, made everyone think I’d lost it- stole money from my family, leaked photos of my girlfriend online… they took _everything_ from me. And the only way to be free is to win so… that’s why I’m here, this time around. That’s why I transferred to Nissen to make-up my third year, because they told us your school would be next.”

“And that’s why Mikael is here…” At the mention of Mikael’s name, Even’s hand drifts back up to his face, before reaching across the bridge of his nose to his other cheek, which he touches gently. Isak hisses at the sudden pain. That must’ve been right where Mikael hit him. “…he’s trying to win too.”

“But don’t worry about it.” Even’s voice no longer shakes. He sounds more determined than ever, posture straightening slightly. He drops his fingers from Isak’s bruise. “You are going to win, Isak- I promise. It will be me and you in that final- not him.”

“But Even-”

They’re interrupted by Even’s phone. The dreaded _Oppfordre_ notification. Isak remains silent as Even pulls out his phone, face falling as he reads his latest dare. Part of him wants to ask, but when Even takes a step away from him and swears, pressing the phone into his chest and frowning heavily, he decides it might be for the best if he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry, angel.” The little reminder of their first interaction pulls Even’s mouth into a watery smile as he walks away backwards, staring at Isak. “I have to go. I have to beat Mikael to be second. It’s going to be me and you Isak!” it’s the last thing he calls out, arms raised triumphantly, before he turns and high tails it out into the darkness. Isak can’t even muster up the strength to ask where he’s going. At least now he knows where Even is from.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands isn’t really the most productive thing to do after you’ve been technically kidnapped, robbed blind, and texted a thousand times by all your friends and loved ones, but Isak doesn’t really have much else to do. Even is gone- Isak knows he could just pull his phone out and check Even’s stream for whatever his final dare is- but a large part of him really doesn’t want to know. There had been a new type of pain that shone in Even’s eyes when he’d read it- and Isak doesn’t think he can take any more heartbreak tonight.

He is distracted from his wallowing by headlights, and immediately scrambles to stand up, ready to run in case anymore watchers _or_ players want to come and assault him. He knows he can’t really blame Mikael for what happened- he’s only doing as told, but Isak knows he’s never quite going to be able to trust flouncy hair and puppy-dog eyes again.

The car screeches to a halt beside him, and Isak recognises it immediately to be Jonas in the driver’s seat, a distraught looking Eva strapped in beside him. “Get in!” he yells, and Isak doesn’t have to be told twice, all but diving into the back of the car as Jonas reverses harshly, pulling out of the docks.

“Oh my _God,_ Isak- thank God your safe!” his eyes are hardly on the road for more than a second at a time before he’s looking into the rear-view mirror, staring at Isak with eyes rimmed red. He’s either been smoking or crying. Isak highly doubts that it’s the former.

Eva looks equally, if not more distressed in the passenger seat, turned completely around to face him as Jonas speeds off, destination unknown. There’s ugly black stripes running from her eyes to her cheeks that are for certain mascara tearstains. Her lipstick is rubbed off and untidy. Her nails are bitten and the polish is picked.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” She cries, and Isak cries too.

Car still moving, Eva doesn’t hesitate to climb into the back and hug him tightly. Isak lets himself go, right there in her arms, crying into his best girl-friend’s shoulder whilst simultaneously explaining to her and Jonas everything in a panicked, pathetic wail- from Even to Mikael to the trailer to the money.

“I don’t know what to do-” he sobs as Jonas pulls over, before he too hops in the back, Isak squashed in the middle of his two closest friends. “-everything’s gone, my dad’s freaking out, Even’s taken off and… I’m so scared he’s going to do something stupidly dangerous. All this stupid game says is that I’ve got to be at the skatepark by midnight for the final- and that someone’s going to meet me on the tram to give me the key, whatever _that_ is…” he pulls the sleeve of his hoodie down over his fist and uses the material to wipe his eyes. Jonas’ arm wraps around his shoulders tightly.

“Don’t worry, Isak. We have a plan to fix all of this.” He says, looking to Eva, who nods in a way she must think looks reassuring. It doesn’t fill Isak with hope. “We just need time.” She adds. Isak shakes his head.

“There isn’t _time_. I’ve got to be there in less than an hour- I’m so _fucked_. Even says it’s going to be me and him in the final but… what if it’s all a lie? What if he beats me- and I’m trapped, like he is? For good?”

“Don’t say that.” Jonas squeezes him, tightly. Eva takes his hands into hers.

“Jonas has got a plan.” She promises him. Isak frowns.

“What is this _plan_?”

Jonas grimaces. “Look- it’s not entirely fleshed out yet but… remember Elias?”

Isak’s nose scrunches up at the unfortunate memory of the asshole Jonas had brought with them down to Eva’s cabin last year. “ _Ja_. I remember him. Why?”

“He’s got these friends- they’ve got a secret hideout downtown where they access the dark web. I go all the time with him- and they’re going to help us! They’ve got access to thousands of these… automated computer bots- like- and they can one by one override the servers for every player. We just need bot majority to shut them all down.”

“If they make it through the firewall.” Eva bites her lip, legs shaking nervously. “And… well, in the meantime Isak- you’re going to have to go to the final. We don’t know how long this might take- we need time-”

“-There’s a sixty percent chance that this can work.” Jonas cuts her off, placing one hand on top of where Eva and Isak’s are interlinked. “And I promise you, Is-” his eye contact is intense, wide and unwavering. Isak could get lost in Jonas’ eyes. He has done, several times in the past. “-I _will_ make it work.”

It’s a promise, burning behind Jonas’ dark eyes. Jonas hasn’t ever let him down before.

Isak doesn’t really understand the plan in full, but Jonas seems confident and driven, jumping back into the driver’s seat and speeding off in the direction of this so-called secret hang out where computer nerds and assholes like Elias use the darknet to buy drugs and God knows what else. Isak doesn’t focus on the journey. Instead, he looks beside him to Eva, who still had her hands wrapped in his tightly.

“I’m really sorry, you know,” he says quietly, catching her attention way from the window. “…for everything that went on last year. And those things I said about you to Even… that wasn’t cool.”

“I’m sorry too,” she gives him a tearful smile. “I mean… hooking up with _Chris_ \- I don’t know what I was thinking. It wasn’t cool- I was just angry. I’ve _been_ angry for so long but now… after seeing you walk across that ladder and knowing that any second you could’ve fallen and died and the last thing I would’ve said to you was so-” she cuts herself off, taking in a sharp breath. Her voice was starting to get wobbly towards the end there. Isak squeezes her hand gently, rubbing his thumb over the skin. “-I’m so sorry, Isak. Can we just… be friends again? For real this time?”

“Of course.” Isak smiles back at her, and when he does, it’s genuine. For a second, he forgets all about the game.

“We’re ten minutes away- but I’ll drop you off at the tram-stop, Isak.”

“Wait! I need to make a call, can we stop by that payphone?”

“Really Eva?!” Jonas groans, smacking his hands against the steering wheel as she darts out of the car without warning, leaving the door open and running off across the road. “Who are you even calling?!” he shouts after her, but Eva doesn’t answer. She shuts herself in the phonebooth, dialling a number read off her phone. Isak rubs his hands over his face.

“I’m so scared Jonas.” He admits. Jonas doesn’t look at him this time. He just presses his head back against the car-seat and lets out a long sigh.

“Isak you’re going to be the death of me one of these days.”

“Sorry.” Isak sniffs. “I should’ve listened to you instead of just… running off with Even. I didn’t think about the consequences.”

“Please,” Jonas snorts, and the playful tone too his voice catches Isak off guard. “If you thought about consequences before running off into something stupid, you wouldn’t be Isak Valtersen.” He sits up, turning round so that they can face each other. “And,” Jonas then smiles, reaching forward and holding Isak’s knee gently, “-if I didn’t go rushing around, trying to come up with any possible plan to save your ass I wouldn’t be Jonas Vasquez.”

“Thanks, Jonas.”

“I love you Isak. Nothing changes that.”

Isak stiffens slightly, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. Barely a few months ago, those are words he would’ve killed for- just to hear them come out of Jonas’ mouth. But here and now, after Even and Eva and all the crazy shit that’s gone on over the course of the night- Jonas’ promises bring nothing except relief. Isak sighs.

“I love you too.”

“- _GUYS_!”

Eva interrupts the moment, Jonas leaning over as she jumps into the passenger seat, mobile out and already rotated. Isak can recognise _oppfordre_ from a mile away now, and even the purple-yellow colour scheme of the app has his stomach turning.

However, when Eva selects the third-place stream, and Even’s face lights up the screen, his stomach does twelve consecutive backflips.

There’s no watchers around that could even get high enough for a good angle of Even, but there is one small clip of someone, clearly from their bedroom window, zooming in on the boy, hanging by his arms from the roof of the _Raddison Blu Plaza Hotel_ , phone balanced precariously on the giant _Raddison_ sign. Isak recognises the building immediately- it’s the tallest in Oslo- probably even in Norway and is entirely made of glass. His breath hitches and he leans forwards to get a better view as Eva switches perspective to what must be a drone, hovering at the side of Even.

“Wait, what does the dare say?” Jonas points to the text at the top of the screen.

Eva reads it aloud. “Hang for thirty seconds… one-handed.”

“ _Nei-_ ” Isak reaches out, as if he could reach through the fucking screen and yank Even back to safety, but of course, it’s futile. Even’s straining, muscles in his back tense through the thin material of the dress shirt, face screwed up. He grabs his phone with one hand before letting it swing behind him, still holding it at an angle so that he can film the whole ordeal. Of course- because without filming it the dare is void.

 For just a second, Even slips, and Isak lets out a scream.

Thankfully, he manages to stay on, knuckles white from how tightly his fingertips are gripping the edge of the building. The tiny countdown in the corner of the video hits zero- and he yells, before hauling himself back up and over the edge with a strangled-sounding sob.

 

 

 _CONGRATULATIONS_ , the stream reads. _YOU HAVE MADE IT TO THE FINAL._


	5. The Grand Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak and Even face off in the Oppfordre Final. Jonas has a plan.

Chapter Five: The Grand Final

 

 

 

Isak’s heart is racing when he steps onto the tram that will take him to the skatepark. It’s the same route he’s taken a thousand times since he was a kid with Jonas, with Magnus, with Mahdi, even with Even, earlier that night. It’s the gang’s old stomping ground, but on _Oppfordre_ night with the streetlights glowing and every phone insight making his heart race nervously, it doesn’t feel the same. Isak’s knuckles whiten around the bar he’s holding to stay stood upright. The tram is mostly empty, save for a few random stragglers hanging around in the late hours. However, it doesn’t seem to be the usual drunks, mooching around the city until the sun comes up. Shady figures with watchful eyes and dark expression litter the tram sparsely. There’s also a complete absence of teenagers, causing ruckus and drinking from cans of beer on their way to a party with their friends. Of course, they’re all probably at home, glued to their screens.

 _They could be watching right now ,_ Isak thinks, glancing around awkwardly in search of a watcher. There is someone who eyes him back across the tram, sat in the back corner with a thick red bandana covering the lower half of their face and a hoodie pulled over their head. Pulling his (Jonas’) own sweatshirt tighter around his face, Isak gulps and makes his way over. _Oppfordre_ had said something about there being ‘someone’ waiting for him with a key. This key would then let him into the skatepark.

They’re only two stops away, so this _has_ to be the guy,

It’s nice to be back in his normal clothes. One of the watchers had managed to recover the clothes Mikael had stolen from both himself and Even, but Jonas’ giant red hoodie pulled over his t-shirt and jeans puts Isak a little less on edge. It’s soft, it’s practical for the plan and more so, it smells just like his best friend. Silently, taking a seat opposite the stranger, he wonders if Even got his clothes back too, or if he’s still parading about in that fucking tuxedo like a beautiful, deadly spy in a _James Bond_ film.

The man opposite him doesn’t say anything, but his green eyes glow in the dim lights of the tram. Isak clears his throat slightly, but has no idea what to say. The stranger is wordless, just pulls a small paper bag out of his backpack, and places it on the empty seat beside him. Then, as the tram pulls up to the stop before the skatepark, he stands, and slinks off into the night.

Isak picks up the paper bag the second he’s gone, tearing it open. Laid in the bottom, wrapped in red tissue paper is a gleaming, silver revolver.

Isak nearly drops the bag.

He’s never seen a gun in real life before. This was fucking Norway- not _America_ , where everyone and their mother owned a firearm just for the fun of it. Isak had only ever seen guns on TV, and he’d always thought it looked quite fun when the characters in _Narcos_ waved their pistols around and shouted Spanish curse-words. It’s considerably less fun when he takes the cool metal into his own shaking hand, and stuffs it quickly into the front pocket of his hoodie, away from prying eyes. Is this what the fucking _key_ is meant to be? How much more fucked up can the evening get?

He's panicking, and he knows that. The tram pulls up to the skatepark, but Isak’s legs feel like led. He wants to call Jonas. He wants to call his mom.

It’s sad to think that he might never be able to speak to either of them again.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _Jonas has a plan_ \- is the mantra he repeats over and over as he walks towards the skatepark awkwardly - _Jonas and Eva are working on the plan. Everything is going to be okay._

That doesn’t stop the gun from burning a hole in his gut. With every step, it swings in his front pocket and hits his abdomen. There’s a girl he’s never seen before, stood at the entrance looking menacing. Just like the guy on the tram, she’s got a scarf covering the lower half of her face, and her hood is pulled up tightly over her hair. The only park of her visible is her eyes, which are dark and impossible to read. They remind him of Sana’s eyes- only this girl doesn’t glow and sparkle with mischief and knowing. She remains flat, emotionless.

“Key.” Is the only thing she says, voice low. Swallowing thickly, Isak pulls the gun from his pocket and shows it to her. She still doesn’t speak, just nods, before stepping aside and letting Isak walk past her, into the skatepark he’d known for the best part of ten years.

Only, it didn’t look like it had ten years ago. It didn’t even look like it had ten days ago, let alone the comfortable serenity it had held for himself and Even, just a few hours before.

Isak’s never seen so many people in the skatepark. Watchers, all of them, sat around the edge of the biggest pit, legs hanging over the edges, kicking against the wall of the bowl. Had it always been that deep? As Isak approaches, and all eyes fly towards him along with the piercing brightness of phone torches, he looks down into the bowl and feels sick. Countless times, he’d watched Jonas throw himself in with a board beneath his feet. This time, when he looks inside, he only sees one thing.

 _Even_.

He’d gotten changed too- back into the ripped jeans with a tight white t-shirt, his green bandana tied tightly around his forehead. He locks gaze with Isak, and hurt bleeds through his eyes. Isak doesn’t know why he’d ever considered the fact that Even would double cross him. He’d never seen anyone look quite so broken nor quite so ready to lay down their own life for the sake of another.

His eyes travel down to the object gripped in Even’s hands. It’s a pistol- not a revolver like his- just a handgun, black, sleek. It looks surprisingly familiar in Even’s grip, and the thought of him holding one before makes Isak’s stomach turn.

“Get in.” a gruff voice says from behind him, giving Isak a light shove until he all but falls into the pit. Inside, it’s just himself and Even. The watchers sit around them, staring down from above.

Just behind Even, a giant TV had been mounted to a portable bracket, right at the edge of the pit. Isak isn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it until now- but someone in the crowd _must_ be the one controlling it, as the images flicker, a brief slideshow of their _greatest fucking moments_.

How pathetically ironic. Isak wants to cry when N.W.A blares over the video of them in the tattoo shop. His back aches, almost longingly. He reaches over his shoulder to touch the spot where the tattoo lies softly, eyes locked with Even the entire time. Even just nods, ever so slightly.

Both their phones vibrate at the same time that the message on the TV changes, and the crowd gasps, cheers, records. Isak doesn’t have to reach into his pocket to check what their dare is. Instead, he watches as Even does, realisation and devastation pouring over his face the second the words register in his brain. Isak just looks past him, staring at the giant TV. He really hopes Jonas is watching.

 

_SHOOT YOUR OPPONENT._

* * *

 

 

As the crowd erupts into frantic, excited screaming and hollers, Even feels his entire body freeze. The screaming faces are still surrounding him, but the sound disappears. All he can focus on, all he can hear is _Isak_ , and the tiny little gasp he makes when he reads the screen. Even doesn’t have to turn around and read it for himself. He’d heard the voices as soon as they’d seen it too.

 

 _SHOOT YOUR OPPONENT_.

 

It takes a lot of strength not to buckle to the ground as his legs begin to shake. He doesn’t tear his eyes from Isak, the beautiful boy who’d captivated him so instantly and easily. Of course, in the beginning Even’s only focus had been the game and doing anything he could to win and be free from it. Mikael was the only villain he could see, but even that was understandable. Mikael just wanted the same as him. To be free. It was a shame that they had to fight each other just for the chance at it.

But then there was _Isak_.

Even had tried so hard to keep himself from falling head over heels but it was _impossible_. He hasn’t felt like this since the first time he laid eyes on _Sonja_ \- but then, the game had torn them apart too. She’d begged him not to play and he hadn’t listened. Then, when the game-makers had gone through his personal files with a fine-toothed comb they’d been sure to drag her down with him.

He hasn’t spoken to Sonja in a long time, but the pain he felt when he first saw those pictures leaked of her are miniscule compared to the pain he feels now, as Isak’s hand loosens around the gun and he turns to the crowd, screaming himself, begging them to stop and think. In a bid to get their attention, he raises the gun, firing it into the air. It doesn’t deter them.

“Isak please!” Even shouts, and it’s a lot not to break down in sobs. Even always knew he’d probably die doing something stupid, because those were the kind of realisations you had to face when your brain chemistry didn’t _work_ like regular people’s. Dying for Isak, he thinks, is probably the smartest way he could go. At least it means something.

“Shoot me.” - he tosses his own gun to the ground, rushing forwards and grabbing Isak’s hand, forcing him to hold the pistol, aiming it at his chest. “Isak, angel, please. I told you that you’d win. I want you to be free.”

“I don’t want _you_ to be dead!” Isak snatches the gun back with a cry, and Even wants to scream. Things could just be so easy if Isak just pulled the trigger and ended it all now. His life could go back to normal- and Even wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of dragging him into something so fucking destructive. Sonja had always said he was far too good at talking people into things, and Isak is the living proof. He was just a pretty boy doing one stupid dare for fun, but Even was so obsessed with winning he didn’t consider for a second that other people could get hurt in the process when dragged along with his sport.

And here they are. Isak’s hand is shaking as he holds the gun up, and Even takes a few steps back, eyes closed, arms spread wide in preparation for the fatal wound. Surprisingly, for the first time in a long time, he feels free. Maybe this was always the way things were supposed to go. Maybe dying for love was always supposed to be his destiny.

And then he hears the rumble of a car engine. Hundreds of eyes, his and Isak’s included fly to the edge of the skatepark where Mikael’s SUV has pulled up, the boy in question hopping out of it with a pistol in his hand and a wicked glint in his eye. Even’s stomach drops into his gut. Mikael is the last fucking person he wants to see seconds before death- leaving him with even more guilt.

“Can’t do it?” he rushes up to the edge of the pit, before hopping in without caution. He’s unbelievably fucking cheery, considering the context. “Come on- these people want a _show_ , don’t you?” he gestures wildly towards the audience, who cheer and kick their legs over the edge and applaud like they’re in the bleachers at a football game. Even has to give it to Mikael- he really knows how to work a fucking crowd.

Isak is staring at him, eyes wide. Even’s never quite felt fear like the bolt that paralyses him- petrified as Mikael raises his gun and points it, aiming directly into the centre of Isak’s chest.

“If Even won’t play by the rules, I will.” He says, patting his own chest, hair bouncing. Even wants to scream, but any noise he could’ve made is immediately overpowered by the crowd’s cheering. They want a bloodbath and of course, Even doesn’t want to give them one. Watching one boy sacrifice his life for another isn’t nearly as entertaining as a shootout.

 

 

 _MIKAEL. CHALLENGE: SHOOT YOUR OPPONENT_. The voice from the screen plays loudly. _DO YOU ACCEPT?_

 

 

Mikael grins.

“I accept.” He says, teeth gritted, and then time stops moving.

Even can see the bullet, frozen in the air. He wants to lunge forwards and push Isak out the way, but his feet are fixed to the floor. The faces around them, hard to read around their scarves and masks but still _there_ , still _present_ enough and fucking decent enough to look shocked. Even imagines that a large proportion of them probably weren’t expecting any of them to actually go through with it. They couldn’t have imagined in their wildest dreams that they were actually about to see a _murder-_ live and in the fucking _flesh_.

“Isak!” he rushes forwards, but the movement of his body is seconds too late. Isak has been hit, and his knees buckle instantly, body crashing to the ground. Even runs forwards, but Isak’s eyes are already closed. There isn’t chance for a painful goodbye, or a heartfelt confession or a desperate, bleeding apology like in all the movies he’s poured over for so long.

Because Isak is already dead. His eyes are shut tightly and his body is still.

Instead of rushing to him, Even instead leans down and picks up the gun that had fell beside his hand. With a new surge of anger inside of him, he grips it tightly and whirls round, pointing it in Mikael’s direction.

“Wait, Even, look!” Mikael holds his hands out, as if that’s going to be enough to protect him from the bullet. Then, he’s pointing up at the crowd who have now fallen silent. He’s talking, but Even isn’t listening, the only thing he can hear is the sound of blood pumping in his own ears. He wants to fucking kill Mikael. He’s never wanted anything more.

“Even, wait-”

It’s _Isak_. Even spins suddenly and looks down at the bleeding boy, who opens his eyes and winks, suddenly _not dead_. Even frowns in confusion, head swimming at the overwhelming mess of emotions. He follows Mikael’s point up to the crowd as they all stare at their phones, looking horrified.

“Isak’s friend, Jonas,” Mikael explains, quietly, now that the crowds attention is diverted away from them. Isak closes his eyes tightly again, playing dead. Only then does Even notice that there isn’t a single speck of blood on his body. “He got some people to hack _Oppfordre_. Now every single fucking anonymous watcher’s personal details are open and visible. We know every single one of them- their names, where they go to school. And they’re all being charged as an accessory to murder.”

Even on the screen behind them, the image has changed.

 

_ELISHA JENSEN, YOU ARE NOW AN ACCESSORY TO MURDER. DO YOU WANT TO SIGN OUT?_

 

 

“They’re signing out.” Mikael explains to them, and Even wants to cry. It’s all too much and simultaneously, not enough, because he still doesn’t understand completely what’s happening and Isak is still dead- but he _isn’t_ \- but he’s not bleeding- but he’s _hurt_.

Mikael approaches him slowly, and lays a hand on his shoulder. _Fuck_ , how long had it been since they were like this, face to face? _Oppfordre_ had taken so much from each of them, and had destroyed their friendship completely. But here Mikael was. _Working_ with Isak and _Jonas_?

Even looked around as people began to leave the skatepark in a panicked mob, masks and bandanas being left behind on the floor. There was no point concealing their identities when it was already a known fact that could easily be passed on to the authorities. There was nothing left to hide now that they’ been exposed.

“They’re all signing out Even- and that means one by one, the _Oppfordre_ servers are closing down. The game is being _shut down_ by the players. We’re the only ones left.” He holds his phone up, and Even has to squint, blinking a few times so the tears clinging to his eyes don’t blur the letters.

 

_Mikael Øverlie Boukhal, YOU ARE NOW AN ACCESSORY TO MURDER. DO YOU WANT TO SIGN OUT?_

 

Mikael presses yes, and nods for Even to take out his phone and do the same. Then, there’s only one person left to wait for.

Even turns slowly, eyes falling on Isak’s body, laid out on the concrete. His eyes are open now, expression relieved. Aside from the three of them, the skatepark is empty.

“Help me up?” Isak says, and just hearing his _voice_ is enough to make the tears start falling again. Even grabs for his hand and pulls Isak in close, hugging him tightly, breathing in his soft, faraway scent as a few fresh tears spill over the confines of his eyelids.

“Look, it was all fake.” Isak explains with a short laugh, and behind them, Mikael approaches, waving the gun in his limp grip as if it’s nothing more than a harmless toy. Even frowns.

“Just blanks, dude. I promise.” Mikael holds the gun out to him. Even doesn’t reach to take it.

“I don’t understand.”

“Your friend Eva called me.” He then says, nodding to Isak as he takes a few steps back, away from them. “I approached her to team up earlier in the night when you two were getting popular- left her my number. She asked me to help- so I did.”

“Don’t you see Even?” Even feels a hand slip into his, and Isak’s tugging him round so that they can face each other, hands clasped together tightly. The smile on Isak’s face is impossibly wide, and Even feels his own lifting, matching it, despite the confusion whirling around in his gut and his head.

“You’re free.” Isak whispers, breath ghosting across his face. “We both are. It’s _over_.”

Even closes his eyes, and breathes a sigh of relief before pulling Isak into him, holding him tightly. It almost seems too good to be true. The last year of his life had been such fucking _hell_ \- but then, here was Isak in his arms, seconds after being shot in the name of a fucking _app_. Apparently, despite all the times Even had tried to deny it- miracles _could_ happen.

"It's over." he reaffirms, but the voice doesn't sound like his own. Even grimaces as Isak pulls back, holding his face delicately between two soft palms. "It's over." he keeps repeating, as Isak peppers his face with small, heartfelt kisses. Even doesn't let go of his hips, holding them together. "It's over." he sighs, as Isak wipes away the first of many tears he didn't know he was letting fall.

Isak shoots him a watery smile. "It's over." he says. "You're not alone."

 


	6. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after what just might be the longest night of Isak Valtersen's life- the sun comes up.

Chapter Six: The End

 

 

Nights like these could so easily stretch on forever, but eventually, Isak was squinting, looking across the horizon as the sun slowly rose.

Even was sat beside him on the concrete, smiling around a mouthful of greasy kebab. Of course- because _what other place_ had been open to grab a bite to eat at four am after a long Friday night? They’d been sat out there so long, just quietly enjoying each other’s presence, that the kebabs had gone cold and their sodas were flat, but Isak didn’t care. He enjoyed his lukewarm kebab and watched with admiration as Even happily scoffed his too.

When the containers were empty and set aside on the ground beside them, Even finally spoke, voice soft and quiet, just like the empty Oslo morning.

 “There’s something else I didn’t tell you about myself.”

Isak smiled, following Even’s gaze back out into the sunset.  “What else could there possibly be to say?” he asked. Even turned to look at him, but his tired smile didn’t quite match Isak’s. if anything, he looked _afraid_. Isak didn’t think he was ready for any more surprises.

“I’m, uh… bipolar.” Even said, and if you’d asked Isak to list where _I’m bipolar_ came on the expected-grand-reveal scale, he would’ve ranked it impossibly low. _I’m bipolar_. It was the _last_ thing Isak had been expecting, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to react. “Manic depressive type.”

“….Oh.” he said, cursing himself inwardly afterwards as Even shifted awkwardly where he was sat. He didn’t have a clue what a perfect response would be to _I’m bipolar-_ but it certainly wasn’t fucking _Oh._

“Sorry if that makes you… like… _uncomfortable_.” Even said, looking down at the ground between his mile-long legs, hands clasped together tightly. “I guess it’s just a big part of who I am and I just thought that- you know, if we were- uh… you should know. Whatever. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not.” Isak answered quickly, hoping to redeem himself. “Thanks for telling me. That must be….”

“Hard? Shitty? Crazy?” Even leant back on his elbows, sighing deeply. “Yeah.”

Once again, Isak was completely lost for words. He didn’t have anything to refute Even’s statement. He’d just listed the top three words that had shot through his head the minute the word _bipolar_ had slipped from the other boy’s lips.

So instead of talking, the two sat silently, Even staring at the sunset and Isak staring at his shoes, until he finally worked up the courage to speak.

“My mom is ill.” He said, surprising even himself. It was the first time he’d actually let himself acknowledged the fact to anyone that wasn’t his dad or Jonas. His mom’s mental state wasn’t something he liked talking about much. However, something told him Even would likely understand more than most.

“How’d you mean?”

“She’s insane.” Isak fumed at himself, again, for his stupid fat mouth. “Well- sorry,” he quickly corrected himself. “I shouldn’t say that. She’s… mentally ill. My dad left because he couldn’t handle her and eventually I left too. She’s in a hospital now on a sort of… permanent basis.”

For the first time in what Isak could only equate to being _too long_ , Even turned and faced him. Isak saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes- not pity, not sadness.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“Don’t be.” Isak shook his head. “Like you said, it’s part of who she is. She’s still _mamma_. I love her. nothing changes that.”

“Yeah?” It was phrased more like a question than an answer, almost as if Even was seeking reassurance from him. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like they were talking about Isak’s mother anymore.

So Isak smiled. “Yeah.” He said quietly, and it only took a few seconds for the expression to be mirrored on Even’s face. Quiet fell between them again, and they watched the sun creep over the horizon and take its place high in the sky, finally brining what was easily the best and worst night of Isak’s entire life to its denouement.

It was cathartic, really, as the sunlight hit his face. Isak didn’t think he’d ever be comfortable in the dark again.

Eventually, Isak had to speak. There was still something else on his mind.

So he asked- “What else were you going to say?”

“Huh?”

“You know, when you said its part of who you are. Then you said, uh, you thought that I should know if we were… ?”

“Oh…” For _once_ , _finally_ , it was Even’s turn to look flustered instead of being do effortlessly calm and fucking _cool,_ sprawled out on the ground resting on his elbows with his mile long legs crossed at the ankles of his expensive trainers. “-it’s nothing.”

Isak grinned. “It’s _not_ nothing. What are we to you, Even? Or… what could we be, I guess?”

When Even looked over to him, Isak felt the weight of the world slip off his shoulders and melt down the storm-drain in the pavement. _Soft_ would be the word Isak used to describe him. So fucking _soft_ \- with his silky hair falling over his eyes just slightly and his sparkling blue eyes in the morning sun and the dreamy, tugging half smile that caught his pretty, plush lips.

“I’d be anything you want, Isak.” He said, and Isak’s heart skipped around six or seven beats.

“Really?” it was impossible to hide the childish excitement in his voice- so he did his best to cover it with teasing. “Not just for a dare?”

“Meeting you today has been more thrilling than any stupid dare, Isak.” Even smiled. “ _Oppfordre_ or otherwise.”

“I think you’re pretty thrilling too. You know… in a mysterious, James Dean, _Rebel without a cause_ kinda way-”

Even sprang up from where his position slouched back against the concrete, sitting bold upright. “You’ve seen _Rebel Without a Cause_?!” he asked excitedly. Isak frowned.

“Huh? Oh, nei.” He shook his head. “It’s just that thing people say, isn’t it? I don’t really watch movies… only like, action movies.”

For Isak, the whole conversation had steered far away from what he had initially intended. He wanted to talk about _them_ \- the first boy he could maybe see himself possibly _being_ with, as more than just a heart-wrenching hook up and a _penetrator_ hoodie that he’d screwed up into the tightest possible ball and shoved into the back of his bottom dresser drawer. He didn’t care about _movies_ \- but Even was clutching his chest and rolling back on the concrete as if Isak had insulted his fucking _mother_.

“Isak! You wound me! I take it all back, I was wrong about you! Don’t watch movies? _Rebel Without a Cause_ is a _classic_ Isak! You’ll be telling me you haven’t seen _Romeo + Juliet,_ or _Moulin Rouge_ next!”

“Shakespeare? No thanks.” Isak scoffed. “And isn’t that the one with Christina Aguilera? I thought it was a song-”

“ISAK!” Even yelled, smile still tugging at his lips as he tried to remain outraged. “If we’re going to be together I need to educate you on movies, ASAP. And don’t give me any lip about _its old_. Old movies are _classics_ for a reason- they’re the best!”

Isak froze then, a slow spreading grin making itself known across his face. He’d heard it- caught Even’s tiny slip in the beginning of his rant about _old movies,_ of all the things they could be spending time talking about. He liked that Even was so easily carried away in a topic he was obviously so passionate about. It made him even _more_ devastatingly attractive. Isak wasn’t sure how he was going to continue on living his life if Even wasn’t going to be a part of it.

“Be together, huh?” he raised an eyebrow. Even stilled, pressing his lips together.

“Oh….um… yeah,” he mumbled, looking away briefly, rubbing the back of his hair with his hand, a little awkwardly. “I just thought- if you, uh… if you wanted. Sorry, I was being too presumptuous-”

“No its fine-”

“-maybe one day we could… grab a bite to eat or something, sometime? I wasn’t joking when I said that I’d be… well, _anything_ , with you, Isak. Anything you wanted. Even just your friend- but that would probably kill after everything we’ve been through tonight.”

Isak was shell shocked. “You wanna take _me_ … on a date?” he asked, suspended in disbelief. He wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, a small part of him had still convinced himself that there wasn’t a chance in _hell_ a guy like _Even_ would want much to do with someone as ordinary as himself, outside their so very extraordinary night.

“ _Ja_!” Even nodded enthusiastically. “Flowers, chocolates. The whole nine yards!”

“Okay.” Isak grinned, nodding before remembering he was trying hard _not_ to look desperate and pretended to mull the proposal over. “I _could_ be into that, I guess. We’re not going to see a movie though. I can _already_ picture us arguing at the box office because I want to see something normal and you want to watch the 50kr re-runs of those weird foreign films-”

“- _Isak Valtersen!_ You’re lucky I like you so much.” Even didn’t hesitate before shifting over, reaching up to touch Isak’s face gently, rubbing the edge of his cheek in an oddly intimate gesture. It was strange, thinking they’d only known each other for a short time- less than twenty-four hours, but here they were at sunrise, touching faces and exchanging stupid jokes and soft smiles. Fuck, Isak knew he was in trouble. He’d fallen for Even already. It was only going to go downhill from here.

“It’s a deal.” Even grinned at him, and Isak decided he didn’t care. He’d tumble headfirst down a chasm into whatever it was Even had to offer him. He’d take on the world- the internet- _mental health_. He’d do it all.

“It’s a date.” He corrected Even- before (without hesitation, because _fuck_ being scared, they’d just taken on _the internet_ and won) leaning forwards and pressing their lips together, locking them into a soft kiss that was greatly reciprocated by Even, who buried a hand in Isak’s hair and yanked him even closer, the two melting into each other like they were _made_ to fit together, in perfect harmony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big BIG thanks to all of u who gave kudos and commented on this! and if u liked this, I write other EVAK fics! So maybe check those out too, if u are so inclined!!!!! 
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> comments / kudos etc make my day! Also, feel free to check out my other Evak Fic- Paint Me a Picture (With Your True Colours)


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